july 5th
Where the fuck you been at
Everything too serious
Tell me where the motherfuckin sin at
Wait repent that
Show me where I jump in at
Gimme lil bit imma swim laps
Yea I been back
Just sitting in the back
Like the game is a muthafuckin maybach
Yea I rap
Lotta niggas wanna say that
Nine outta ten shit I probably wouldn't play that
Throw that shit way back
Like john elway
Wind blowing my way
Shit going my way
Yea
Glad sad mad
Anger lead to muthafuckin danger
Yea
If I fuck up
So what
Wasn't born in a manger
Never said hey baby imma singer
Soontime later catch me laid up with a banger
Where my drink please hand me that
Ice on sprite and gentleman jack
Tell them haters that a nigga back
Remy xo or that henny black
I'm staring at a throne
Tell them niggas that it's on
Bet the name taste good even when a nigga gone
And it feel so right
Even when a nigga wrong
Get yo own these my twenty four
I spend mine
And you spend yours
Don't fuck with mine I ain't studdin yours
I need a trunk full of horses
Fuck them whores
Don't believe shit
Even from the source
Too much pain for me not to do my thang
Fuck out my way
Lady said you gonna be smart sweetheart
But you gotta pay
Fuck
Bitch I'm back again
Thats to them hatas and them bitches
Bitch I'm back again
Just making sure that you listening
Cover yo eye with this
We bout to check up on that vision
You still listening
This sound nice
My hands is itchy
Clap on clap off
There go yo shine
Look at the time
It look like mine
You like how the beat sound right now
Yo ass is cryin
Mutha father fuck a rhyme
I'll stand here and count to five
Would've been cliche
Never know these days
Keep them on they toes
Racks on racks
Foes on foes
Give it time
It all unfolds
Be surprised but don't be
when you truly know
Finally see
Grind it out you'll finally eat
My thoughts they scream
Apologies
I took a break
Cooked some steak
Cleaned my plate
Back at the plate
Throw the ball
I can not wait
I'm swinging for the fucking gates
Swear I'm feeling fucking great
Get this shit on tape
I'm tired of the same shit
I'm tired of the same bitches
I'm tired of these lame pricks
I'm tired of the games tricks
Sick of being tired
Tired of being sick
So fuck it all
Wit the same dick
Everything too serious
Tell me where the motherfuckin sin at
Wait repent that
Show me where I jump in at
Gimme lil bit imma swim laps
Yea I been back
Just sitting in the back
Like the game is a muthafuckin maybach
Yea I rap
Lotta niggas wanna say that
Nine outta ten shit I probably wouldn't play that
Throw that shit way back
Like john elway
Wind blowing my way
Shit going my way
Yea
Glad sad mad
Anger lead to muthafuckin danger
Yea
If I fuck up
So what
Wasn't born in a manger
Never said hey baby imma singer
Soontime later catch me laid up with a banger
Where my drink please hand me that
Ice on sprite and gentleman jack
Tell them haters that a nigga back
Remy xo or that henny black
I'm staring at a throne
Tell them niggas that it's on
Bet the name taste good even when a nigga gone
And it feel so right
Even when a nigga wrong
Get yo own these my twenty four
I spend mine
And you spend yours
Don't fuck with mine I ain't studdin yours
I need a trunk full of horses
Fuck them whores
Don't believe shit
Even from the source
Too much pain for me not to do my thang
Fuck out my way
Lady said you gonna be smart sweetheart
But you gotta pay
Fuck
Bitch I'm back again
Thats to them hatas and them bitches
Bitch I'm back again
Just making sure that you listening
Cover yo eye with this
We bout to check up on that vision
You still listening
This sound nice
My hands is itchy
Clap on clap off
There go yo shine
Look at the time
It look like mine
You like how the beat sound right now
Yo ass is cryin
Mutha father fuck a rhyme
I'll stand here and count to five
Would've been cliche
Never know these days
Keep them on they toes
Racks on racks
Foes on foes
Give it time
It all unfolds
Be surprised but don't be
when you truly know
Finally see
Grind it out you'll finally eat
My thoughts they scream
Apologies
I took a break
Cooked some steak
Cleaned my plate
Back at the plate
Throw the ball
I can not wait
I'm swinging for the fucking gates
Swear I'm feeling fucking great
Get this shit on tape
I'm tired of the same shit
I'm tired of the same bitches
I'm tired of these lame pricks
I'm tired of the games tricks
Sick of being tired
Tired of being sick
So fuck it all
Wit the same dick
Credits
Writer(s): Nikko Dean Beason
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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