Bahamas
Do what I'm wanting I'm out on my own
I'm trusting myself whether right or wrong
Ain't trusting these niggas I'm keeping a chrome
When fucking these bitches I'm deep in raw
Unwrapping a leaf so I don't need a cone
Won't smoke with you tweakers I keep a bong
These niggas be singing I ain't talking 'bout songs
I'm feeling like Dame I shoot it's a bomb
I feel like today I might shoot at your mom
I talk with my dick head the convo is long
I fill up a raw with the grabba and strong
You see what it came in don't ask what it cost
Feeling like Toddy I'll rub on your body while you take a drink with the boss
Get your ass off of the bar
Get your ass up in my car
We in Coyote, it's getting real ugly I think that I'm seeing the stars (Damn)
All I be seeing is red everywhere (Blood) landed on Mars
All that I'm seeing is gold chains, fast women and fast cars
Living the life of a track star
A lot of these niggas done crashed hard
Smoking this shit that I grow on my own
Hell nah we can't match boy
Emotional with that chrome though, magazine stay attached (Yah)
Little mama told me take that
I'ma hit it like a bad boy
Running back to the bag boy
That is why you hear the skkrrtt
(Oh, does it have aspartame?)
No bluffing (No)
Beat it without the percussion (Beat it up)
I had to fuck to the hi hat
She love the way that I'm drumming (Bump bump)
Giving me that head I'ma bust it
Close up your mouth I don't need a discussion (I don't need none)
I got it out of the dungeon
30 round drum or I'll come with 100
Trying to come up out the jungle
Hit the Bahamas where everyday summer
Feeling like Vader I got the force
I took your bitch and put her on the coarse
We came out the gravel and my niggas run with the sticks like they javelins
Feeling like sovereign, I got the vault
Gas up the Cutty you hear the exhaust
Real north baby I'm all bout my racks
Grow my own strains so I don't need your packs (Uh haa)
Go and kill the pussy like mad max
I be in the whip smoking mad thrax
Llama on my hip with a black flag
I'ma hit Diggie for the crack stash (Dig)
I'm back on the block with a bag full of billies
I'm tryna get me a new Richard Mille
Out on the north but I trap on the south
Got a few little ones don't got nothin better to do than to run in your house
I've never been 'bout the clout
Chaz saying I'm sout (He know I always been a real one)
Smoking that sour with power (Wow)
I look like a phantom when you in the crowd
She look like a model when she in the shower
Leaving her wet and you gon' need a towel
I'ma pass it Rylan, go 'head pass it to Miles
I left that bitch on an island
Left that pussy deflowered
No bluffing
Beat it without the percussion (Beat it up)
Giving me that head I'ma bust it
Close up your mouth I don't need a discussion (I don't need none)
I got it out of the dungeon
30 round drum or I'll come with 100
Trying to come up out the jungle
Hit the Bahamas where everyday summer
Feeling like Vader I got the force
I took your bitch and put her on the coarse
We came out the gravel and my niggas run with the sticks like they javelins
Feeling like sovereign, I got the vault
Gas up the Cutty you hear the exhaust
Real north baby I'm all bout my racks, racks
Real north baby
Ayo miles, run it up
Yo Rylan, you whylin' again
I'm trusting myself whether right or wrong
Ain't trusting these niggas I'm keeping a chrome
When fucking these bitches I'm deep in raw
Unwrapping a leaf so I don't need a cone
Won't smoke with you tweakers I keep a bong
These niggas be singing I ain't talking 'bout songs
I'm feeling like Dame I shoot it's a bomb
I feel like today I might shoot at your mom
I talk with my dick head the convo is long
I fill up a raw with the grabba and strong
You see what it came in don't ask what it cost
Feeling like Toddy I'll rub on your body while you take a drink with the boss
Get your ass off of the bar
Get your ass up in my car
We in Coyote, it's getting real ugly I think that I'm seeing the stars (Damn)
All I be seeing is red everywhere (Blood) landed on Mars
All that I'm seeing is gold chains, fast women and fast cars
Living the life of a track star
A lot of these niggas done crashed hard
Smoking this shit that I grow on my own
Hell nah we can't match boy
Emotional with that chrome though, magazine stay attached (Yah)
Little mama told me take that
I'ma hit it like a bad boy
Running back to the bag boy
That is why you hear the skkrrtt
(Oh, does it have aspartame?)
No bluffing (No)
Beat it without the percussion (Beat it up)
I had to fuck to the hi hat
She love the way that I'm drumming (Bump bump)
Giving me that head I'ma bust it
Close up your mouth I don't need a discussion (I don't need none)
I got it out of the dungeon
30 round drum or I'll come with 100
Trying to come up out the jungle
Hit the Bahamas where everyday summer
Feeling like Vader I got the force
I took your bitch and put her on the coarse
We came out the gravel and my niggas run with the sticks like they javelins
Feeling like sovereign, I got the vault
Gas up the Cutty you hear the exhaust
Real north baby I'm all bout my racks
Grow my own strains so I don't need your packs (Uh haa)
Go and kill the pussy like mad max
I be in the whip smoking mad thrax
Llama on my hip with a black flag
I'ma hit Diggie for the crack stash (Dig)
I'm back on the block with a bag full of billies
I'm tryna get me a new Richard Mille
Out on the north but I trap on the south
Got a few little ones don't got nothin better to do than to run in your house
I've never been 'bout the clout
Chaz saying I'm sout (He know I always been a real one)
Smoking that sour with power (Wow)
I look like a phantom when you in the crowd
She look like a model when she in the shower
Leaving her wet and you gon' need a towel
I'ma pass it Rylan, go 'head pass it to Miles
I left that bitch on an island
Left that pussy deflowered
No bluffing
Beat it without the percussion (Beat it up)
Giving me that head I'ma bust it
Close up your mouth I don't need a discussion (I don't need none)
I got it out of the dungeon
30 round drum or I'll come with 100
Trying to come up out the jungle
Hit the Bahamas where everyday summer
Feeling like Vader I got the force
I took your bitch and put her on the coarse
We came out the gravel and my niggas run with the sticks like they javelins
Feeling like sovereign, I got the vault
Gas up the Cutty you hear the exhaust
Real north baby I'm all bout my racks, racks
Real north baby
Ayo miles, run it up
Yo Rylan, you whylin' again
Credits
Writer(s): Julissa Taymes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 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.