Soul Reaver

Fuck on a stripper, I made her my main bitch
Walk like I'm Michael, I'm feeling so dangerous
Andy Warhol with the flow, I'm a painter
So many clothes man I ran out of hangers
My bitch like Monica, no not the singer
Cory Matthews with white bitch like Topanga
Acne my denim, you still wearing Wrangler

You niggas not gangsters, y'all going through phases
Copy the drip and they taking the property
Neighborhood superstars but no celebrities
Feel like I'm Triple H, check out my pedigree
She's calling me Eminem cause I'm so shady
Five rings on my fingers, I feel like Tom Brady
Dan Marino on the track man I should've played safety
Swear I love Glocks bitch, got no safety

Switch up the weather, options, maybe
Polod my socks, cotton laces
They loving to hate, my bitch she crazy
Come with the beam, Star Wars lightsaber
Playing that bitch like a game, Space Invaders
Had to boss up man I can't give no favors

Into the dragon, I feel like Aladdin
Like Sega I settled I fuck up the pattern
I pack up the package, I ran up the rackets
I track up the track and I spaz with the ratchet
Nice with the rapping, on sight with the castle
On caps with the casting, I count with the masses

Miss with the missiles, I dance with the Jacksons
Fatal attraction like nigga what's cracking
Nigga what's popping like Twelvyy be popping
Like Addie be mobbing like really be blazing
Really amazing
This for the gods and all for the blase like fuck is you saying

I know what'll really make 'em matter (hey,hey)
I know what'll really make 'em matter (hey, hey)
Money is the only thing that matters (hey, hey)
Family is the only thing that matters (hey, hey)
I know what'll really make 'em matter (hey, hey)
All my new bitches ass is fatter (hey, hey)

I knew what'll really make 'em matter (hey, hey)
I know what'll really make 'em matter (hey, hey)
I know what'll really make 'em matter (hey, hey)
I know what'll really make 'em matter (hey, hey)

Got a glock that shit will make you shatter (hey, hey)
High as hell, I'm smoking on a shatter (hey, hey)
Fucking on a shortie, ass is fatter (hey, hey)
Diamonds like Micheal Jackson's better (hey, hey)
Time is looking, glasses ready to shatter (hey, hey)
I know what'll really make 'em matter (hey, hey)
(Whoa,yeh, what you saying?)
(Cash out, cash out,got it)



Credits
Writer(s): Adam Kirkman, Jamel Phillips
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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