文本歌词

Yeah yeah
I don't know what else to say
I can't I can't think of nothin'
I'm stumped
Here we go (Here we go)
On your feet (On your feet)
Stand up (Stand up)
Everybody hands up (Hands up)
Uh man I dunno man
Everytime I go to think of something played out to say
You already said it
I ain't calling names cause all of y'all the same plus
I'm the king all my past pain all done changed up
All these plains all these lames since the Slaughter's came up
Cause they know they hands tied feet ball and chained up
Ni**as be quick to call me the new 50 Cent
Because of my relationship with Marshall
Used to make me a little partial but here's the brain f**k
We the same cuz
I'm probably about to fall out with a young buck
While I attempt to f**k the f**king game up
B**ch splat only thing I fear in here is chit-chat
You are hearing bars like your ear against a Kit Kat
Shady guys like the Navy drive wavy bye-bye
Maybe my Glock can turn your top to baby's Maybach
My sh*t is powerful literally sick trust me ni**a
It's ugly to kill a thing if the bigger I get
The more disgusting and f**kin' disfigured it gets
Ni**as expect me to go pop oh stop
Y'all about the champagne I'm about the toast
I only f**k with mailmen with h**oin from Boca
Ni**as that'll smoke you while you staring in your postbox
Only incense he enlightens when he's thinkin'
While that sinks in I got a Brinks ink pen
I'm back muthaf**ker
Notice the flyness on the cover of the XXL
I'm back from the dead like Tobey Maguire from the Brothers
How y'all realer (How y'all realer ) If I said it I did it
If I didn't I seen it first-hand like a car dealer
Give up the throne your lease up I am the Mona Lisa
That decoded Da Vinci Code you throwin' your piece up
Is a waste of fake like a phony B-cup
Ni**a the mistake was like my only teacher
Wait 'til they get a load of me 'cause
I've got Gucci's on my feet
Diamonds on my neck
Diamonds on my wrist
B**ches on my di*k
But y'all already said that
Choppers in the trunk
Models in the front
Bottles in the club
But I don't give a f**k
But y'all already said that
Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard
For me to come up with shitty to say (Ayyyyyy)
I'm at a loss for words 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' out of cliches
I'm gettin' writer's block
Psyche
When I stand up in this booth ni**as notice it
Sittin' on the same boat that Noah built
Floatin' on the same water Moses split
Poetry in motion but we sittin' on your grave site overkill
Aren't you tired Why are you so loud Quiet
Real dudes move in silence like a mute drivin' a new hybrid
You dudes is too excited
You a dude that'd try to sue a dude that's suicidal
You will just be another victim
I am like a nickel of w**d rolled in a doobie I'm a little twisted
I roll like the end credits in movies y'all just got scripted
Got y'all ni**as' b**ches bobbin' to this one when she witcha
When she wit' me she bobbin' not vibin'
Tryna put her mind into the inside of my zipper
I'm a sperate with a purpose havin' problems
Not a problem I've encountered
I have found elephants lions clowns
Will jump through hoops like they workin' for the circus
At the fire round the circle's right in front of them fire rounds
Pun intended gun extended what are you mark's askin'
Car's Aston started as a hard-top and I saw past it
Since I decided to start Class diss
All black all glass panoramic roof been gettin' marked absent
I authorize my own all-access
Your b**ch a wh**e I'm a catch she ball-catchin'
Her jaw's been broadcasted all across the globe from the store to Japan
Her p**sy need to blocked and reported as spam
Bong Interscope up in this d**e and I sell it
My voicemail is full got b**ches screamin' inside of envelopes
And they tryna mail 'em to me tryna reach my phone
I don't know which one is harder
Tryna not to take your b**ch or tryna get rid of my own
I got Gucci's on my feet
Diamonds on my neck
Diamonds on my wrist
B**ches on my di*k
But y'all already said that
Choppers in the trunk
Models in the front
Bottles in the club
But I don't give a f**k
But y'all already said that
Cause sometimes I feel like it's so hard
For me to come up with shitty to say (Ayyyyyy)
I'm at a loss for words 'cause y'all already said it all
I think I'm runnin' out of cliches
I'm gettin' writer's block
Psyche
Man get the bozac
We need to start bringin' that sh*t back (Mad flava)
Man f**k it I'm 'bout to catch some wreck (We in effect money )
Mad props to Royce for keepin' it real
On the strength no diggity
I'm 'bout to go pull some hoes get my mack on
Haters get the gasface