Broccoli - Recorded at Spotify Studios NYC

Ain't no tellin' what I'm finna be on, hey, hey
I'm beyond all that fuck shit

In the middle of the party, bitch get off me (goddamn)
In the cut I'm rollin' up my broccoli (goddamn)
Yeah, I know your baby mama fond of me (goddamn)
All she want to do is smoke that broccoli (goddamn)
Whispered in my ear she trying to leave with me (goddamn)
Said that I can get that pussy easily (goddamn)
Said that I can hit that shit so greasily (goddamn)
I'm a dirty dog, I did it sleazily (goddamn)

Ain't no tellin' what I'm finna be on, hey, hey
I'm beyond all that fuck shit
Ain't no tellin' what I'm finna be on
I'm beyond all that fuck shit

I got companies and Pesos, I got people on my payroll
She don't do it 'less I say so, I don't smoke if it ain't fuego
I should sauce 'em up like Prego, fettucini with Alfredo
All I wanted was the fame and every game they made on Sega
I was five or six years old when I had told myself, "Okay you're special"
But I treat you like my equal, never lesser
I was 26 years old when we had dropped this one amazing record
Had the world steppin', that's what I call epic

Couple summers later, I got paper
I acquired taste for salmon on a bagel
With the capers on a square plate
At the restaurant with the why-you-gotta-stare face
To know I either ball or I record over the snare and bass
Rapper face, dread headed
Golden diamond teeth wearin'
They just mad 'cause I got that cheese, bitch, I keep dairy
Turnt up in the party gettin' lit to yacht
With a Spanish Barbie, word to my mummy

Ain't no tellin' what I'm finna be on, hey, hey
I'm beyond all that fuck shit
Ain't no tellin' what I'm finna be on, hey, hey
I'm beyond all that fuck shit

I'm beyond all that fuck shit



Credits
Writer(s): Julian Gramma, Shelley Marshaun Massenburg-smith, Karl Rubin Brutus, Miles Parks Mccollum, Roget Chahayed
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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