Peacoat

It's the kid, I'm coming back, you might lack
I make hits, that's just a fact, got 'em mad
Whatchu gon' do with a chick like that, that chick too bad
On the way to riches, ain't no rags, catch my mags
Bet' not cross the line like a free throw
I'm the one to watch, yeah T know
I stomp they necks down in a peacoat
And now they saying murder she wrote

You know that's on period with a T at the end
It's funny how they talk about me, then try being my friend
Said I'm so versatile, I ebb and flow, I lean and I bend
Don't you ever try to play me, this ain't Barbie and Ken
Want the 'Rari, the Benz
Out with Ari and company
Why they all acting friendly
When they swore they'd be shunning me, don't matter
Cause I'll be on my shi-i-i-t
Yeah, they ain't stopping this freight train
I think I like, great brains
I was destined for the big things
Nolan Lewis spelled in ten rings
All of my fingers flooded
Squeaky clean, I scrubbed it
McDonalds, I love it
Got 'em sick like Rona, I mean COVID
I'm making covenants
Snatching they wigs, and they still recovering
All o' that ass, yeah I'm touching it (Yeah)
Trumping these haters like I was Republican
I'm blossoming, yeah I'm bubbling, PPG
I don't really know, that's on TBD
They screaming my praises, they fawn for me (Ahh)
They wan' see me live, well I charge a fee

It's the kid, I'm coming back, you might lack
I make hits, that's just a fact, got 'em mad
Whatchu gon' do with a chick like that, that chick too bad
On the way to riches, ain't no rags, catch my mags
Bet' not cross the line like a free throw
I'm the one to watch, yeah T know (Oh oh, woah, oh)
I stomp they necks down in a peacoat
And now they saying murder she wrote

If they get to talking, then I'm leaving 'em stuck
This ain't a hobby, word to Scotty, get to beaming 'em up
Got that deep dish, that's what
Throw from deep, swish, and one
When they see me, they stunned
Well my fun's just begun
I'm unstoppable, Kim and Ron
Looking for me? Out of luck, I been gone
Yeah, we fought but then we make up like James, not LeBron
He calls you Miss America? You more like Miss Saigon
I'm just so multifaceted, my nickname polygon
These others out of style, go 'head, pass me the baton, 'on

I'm on another plane
These bums think they lit, but really, they just lame (Ahh)

It's the kid, I'm coming back, you might lack
I make hits, that's just a fact, got 'em mad
Whatchu gon' do with a chick like that, that chick too bad
On the way to riches, ain't no rags, catch my mags
Bet' not cross the line like a free throw
I'm the one to watch, yeah T know
I stomp they necks down in a peacoat
And now they saying murder she wrote



Credits
Writer(s): Nolan Lewis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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