Fashion Week Freestyle

Uh
Told the cat, "Only call, stop texting the phone"
I'm a laid back rapper
I don't get many shows
Got link for a hammer
He can get many poes
I put the "L" into lit, so I get many hoes

This ain't fashion week
I be drippin' head to my toes
I was young trappin', didn't know a Z was a O
Jailhouse only reason that she left me alone
Put her on her fours
Now I gotta beg her to go

But I've come a long way
Used to re-up on a queue of crack
If I'm your favorite rapper
What I rap about, I'm doing that
If he done me dirty, then it's only right I do him back
I had a bit of magic
They like trappin' road, I do the math

My dawg got a five for shottin' out of town
We live and learn
He runs it up on the wing
There's niggas free livin'
Worse, won't hear me on the-
And I don't kill a verse
Call me Ray J
When it comes to the strip
'Cah I hit it first

First time I robbed the plug, wasn't even a lot
First time I sheffed something down, it wasn't even a opp
If I Dior my feet, naturally I'll Dior my top
I got hella reasons why I'm not Diorrin' a fuck
My grey one could easily be in the only way's Essex
When it comes to the shotgun
The only way is pellets
When it comes to my bracelet
The only way is tennis
Chest shot
If I'm lackin', only time I'm gonna leg it

Where's the A-Team?
I don't like hanging with the talkers
She's only gonna buss it for the rapper and the ballers
My nigga said the line's slow, he's finna bleach
Outside the party 'til it's done
And start wrappin' up the ballers

The yutes that I beef look popped out and miserable
Like The Spot in Cockfosters, they need a miracle
Tried and yeah they're onto me
So mom knows I'm a criminal
Niggas wanna hit the T, but they ain't got the minerals

Doing positive
Now they want to be my cousin
Mom used to find food in my room and get to cussin'
Put an OG on me without pressin' any button
And we're still good in the hood
No one ain't tellin' us nothing

Not a fret in the field, if you ain't touchin' anyone
Them rambos that your swinging ain't touching any lungs
Stop lying 'bout shootings, you ain't touching any drums
Said you'll hold drug money, but ain't touching any guns
S bust his couple times
But he's better at stabbin'
Hit a lick couple times
But I'm better at trappin'
Bro said "Do it hands off, you're better at rappin"
I'm mixing good with the bad
And it's making me happy

You and me and big homie got the drop
One of a kind
Pop doors and start sheffin' niggas one at a time
Hella rap cappas, but I ain't one of them guys
My hood will tell you
I got more than just one on my knife
Gang



Credits
Writer(s): Cian Francis William Wright, Hd Beats
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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