4 For 4 For 4
Blow through an ounce a month, and nothin less
Keep a zip on me, buttonless
I figure it out, I don't ask em how
Motherfuck a hook, I'm the captain now
Fuck a verse, this the testament to my way with words
If there's a chance to take us down
This the best you'll get, have to make it work
Fake at first, they're dead at birth
With lies they're nursed
Skipped the carriage, and they float to the hearse
Speak my mind when I jot the verse
Hot when I serve
You miss the mark, I hit my target every time
You aiming high, while I'm remaining high
My goals and I see eye to eye
You just hope it don't get hard to get your fist tight
Twist your wrist right, hear us louder with the knob
Salute cuz she's cute, I want the slob
She calls me Colonel when she's on the cob
Using the key to her heart, like I got the fob
I got goals, you want gold on your wrist
No style stolen, never fold from the risk
Original thoughts hid at all cost
Maybe why it could be so hard to hear this
Evolve my art till I'm fly as a finch
Look back like which ones which
Stitched that fit, you pay quick
Counterfeit, could call it thrifted, or just
Cry like a bitch
My rhymes as stupid as junior from my wife and kids
And I'm a Kyle too
If there's talk of going to clubs
One thing I won't do, is
Follow suit
Like I'm chasing lawyers
For flowers, I'm genus, magnolia
You'll never reach the level of Verne Troyer
On the grind I'm gonna enjoy it
Settle for raises from employers
Keep a zip on me, buttonless
I figure it out, I don't ask em how
Motherfuck a hook, I'm the captain now
Fuck a verse, this the testament to my way with words
If there's a chance to take us down
This the best you'll get, have to make it work
Fake at first, they're dead at birth
With lies they're nursed
Skipped the carriage, and they float to the hearse
Speak my mind when I jot the verse
Hot when I serve
You miss the mark, I hit my target every time
You aiming high, while I'm remaining high
My goals and I see eye to eye
You just hope it don't get hard to get your fist tight
Twist your wrist right, hear us louder with the knob
Salute cuz she's cute, I want the slob
She calls me Colonel when she's on the cob
Using the key to her heart, like I got the fob
I got goals, you want gold on your wrist
No style stolen, never fold from the risk
Original thoughts hid at all cost
Maybe why it could be so hard to hear this
Evolve my art till I'm fly as a finch
Look back like which ones which
Stitched that fit, you pay quick
Counterfeit, could call it thrifted, or just
Cry like a bitch
My rhymes as stupid as junior from my wife and kids
And I'm a Kyle too
If there's talk of going to clubs
One thing I won't do, is
Follow suit
Like I'm chasing lawyers
For flowers, I'm genus, magnolia
You'll never reach the level of Verne Troyer
On the grind I'm gonna enjoy it
Settle for raises from employers
Credits
Writer(s): Kyle French
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.