3am in Florissant
For my brothers that passed away
My niggas that died
And for the homies losing hope
God give him a sign
Napalm
When my hand touch the record
Shit gets ugly
Used to wanna be a comedian
Now ain't shit funny
No more plugs
Niggas can't get shit from me
No more love
All shorty can get is dick from me
Every line
Pure cocaína
Get a sniff from it
Folks only there when they need ya
Hard shit to stomach
When times was hard
Friends was hard to find
Now everybody want a favor
Nigga fall in line
Me and these other rappers not the same
One of the best
Niggas test napalm
And see how hot the flame
My mind blessed with triple 7s
Like a slot machine
Sit on the bleachers
Enjoy the show
If you not the team
Oh he sound like that other cat but not as clean
I'm not impressed
We from the city where they plot and scheme
Counterfeits are commonplace
In this kinda place
The reason why the Coalition looking outta place
So I be in and outta state
Connecting the Dots
Niggas back home
Knowin who the connect on the dotz
I know some family men peddling Fetty and rocks
Cuz them bills coming, Regardless if you ready or not
So ready the pot
Fuck how I look mode
Three star Michelin cook mode
The saga begins
My eyes is the photography lens
My hands write what I'm seeing
I ain't gotta pretend
It's gotta be him
The one and only
You know my steez
I'm a different breed
Issues wit me
We serving mostacciolli
I'm tryna move my family
Out the states
So one foot on ya neck
One on the gas with out the breaks
You crashin out the race
Imma passing y'all with grace
So don't slip
One chance is all it takes
And the game is mine
My niggas that died
And for the homies losing hope
God give him a sign
Napalm
When my hand touch the record
Shit gets ugly
Used to wanna be a comedian
Now ain't shit funny
No more plugs
Niggas can't get shit from me
No more love
All shorty can get is dick from me
Every line
Pure cocaína
Get a sniff from it
Folks only there when they need ya
Hard shit to stomach
When times was hard
Friends was hard to find
Now everybody want a favor
Nigga fall in line
Me and these other rappers not the same
One of the best
Niggas test napalm
And see how hot the flame
My mind blessed with triple 7s
Like a slot machine
Sit on the bleachers
Enjoy the show
If you not the team
Oh he sound like that other cat but not as clean
I'm not impressed
We from the city where they plot and scheme
Counterfeits are commonplace
In this kinda place
The reason why the Coalition looking outta place
So I be in and outta state
Connecting the Dots
Niggas back home
Knowin who the connect on the dotz
I know some family men peddling Fetty and rocks
Cuz them bills coming, Regardless if you ready or not
So ready the pot
Fuck how I look mode
Three star Michelin cook mode
The saga begins
My eyes is the photography lens
My hands write what I'm seeing
I ain't gotta pretend
It's gotta be him
The one and only
You know my steez
I'm a different breed
Issues wit me
We serving mostacciolli
I'm tryna move my family
Out the states
So one foot on ya neck
One on the gas with out the breaks
You crashin out the race
Imma passing y'all with grace
So don't slip
One chance is all it takes
And the game is mine
Credits
Writer(s): David Bohlen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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