Zen

Type beat type beat
I got centerfolds
I got center-floor
I got Champaign in my teeth
I got Champaign ice tea
I got seven more
I got seven models
I got seven rubbing on me
Seven all on my feet

Hit me with the zen yah yah
Takes me now and then yah yah
To sift through your sin yah yah
What year are you in yah yah

See you time and again
You was at deaths door it was death knocking
Caught you in your bed
You was in the French quarter with a French body
What mood were you in?
You were on a world tour with the world watching
Why'd they let him in?
You were covered in red

Sometimes better as friends, bitch
Sometimes better than sex, bitch
Sometimes better than xans, bitch
Sometimes don't make sense, bitch
You were constant violent
You was at deaths door it was death knocking
You were tired of fighting
Stress into violence

You was in the cockpit, girl
You was in the top six, girl
You was in the project, girl
You was in the mindset, girl
Used to always make sense
Big talk with tech ten
Spilt his guts right then
No weight over in seconds

No weight no way with ya
No weight no way with ya
No weight no way with ya
No weight no weight girl
No weight no way with ya
No weight no way with ya
No weight no way with ya
No weight no weight no

Got tattoos on her feet
Got Range Rovers on my feet
Got brand deals on my meat
Band deals brands on fleek
Just made your girl skeet
Got her bent over with the neighbors watching
Baskin in the heat
Forrest and the streets

Or was it?
I forgot you never come around
You want me take it back?
Wish I could double down
To bad still see your face
When I'm up and down, aroused
I try to tune my brain
But I still hear the sound, huh
Yeah I still hear the sound, huh
Hear the sound, yuh



Credits
Writer(s): Aaron Rudman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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