Godfather*
Sick of singing
So I'm bringing shit that's hotter than ya mother
Where the fuck is Otter gone
You other bitches make me yawn
I'll break you faster than a nun cums
Not too much experience
Y'all loopers are delirious
Not a hooper but I'm making rims
E30, yeah I'm breaking limbs
She flirty, she an Olympian
Gymnast, with an interest
For the fella with the biggst bands
Nah bitch I ain't shaking hands
Catch me out there on some sand
My career, yes it is very planned
Yo shit, yes it is very bland
I'm that man
Yes I'm him
Still wanna pipe Lil Kim
The shit y'all write is very dim
Am I alright?
Maybe man
Shut ya trap
This is wraps
Don't carry straps
I swear y'all tapped
Gave up on that straight edge
My swing yes it goes both ways
My word is weak
Like a weak pledge
No I don't miss those days
Fumbled a ten, but it don't matter
'Cause she didn't wanna flatter me
Stumbled to the Grammy's
Yeah, I think she need
I think she need a Plan B
Hop out the whip
Me and my homies, yeah we melon scented
Could not give a shit
If you don't know me then you're gettin' beheaded
Take yo ass to Funky Town
This just how the clique get down
Yeah I got that bumpy sound
No blicks
Knock yo ass to the ground
Ground
Knock yo ass to the what?
What?
Uh
As a feature it's my duty to outshine
I do not need you, Check The Rhime
I'm not even in my prime
And it's a crime
How I'm underrated
Crazy how I skated faded
Hated for the fact
That I'm cracked
At everything I do
Screaming out, fuck you
At the top of my class
Perfect use of the brass
My shit is so gas
Y'all barely get a pass
Now what else am I screaming out?
Kiss my ass
Uh
To my haters
See ya later
Know you trynna get the front seat
Fans is calling shotgun
Fastest faggot at the track meet
Holup now I got something
Yeah you know that I've won
Yeah you better fucking run
'Cause, y'all are all my sons
Uh
Uh
Uh
Yuh
So I'm bringing shit that's hotter than ya mother
Where the fuck is Otter gone
You other bitches make me yawn
I'll break you faster than a nun cums
Not too much experience
Y'all loopers are delirious
Not a hooper but I'm making rims
E30, yeah I'm breaking limbs
She flirty, she an Olympian
Gymnast, with an interest
For the fella with the biggst bands
Nah bitch I ain't shaking hands
Catch me out there on some sand
My career, yes it is very planned
Yo shit, yes it is very bland
I'm that man
Yes I'm him
Still wanna pipe Lil Kim
The shit y'all write is very dim
Am I alright?
Maybe man
Shut ya trap
This is wraps
Don't carry straps
I swear y'all tapped
Gave up on that straight edge
My swing yes it goes both ways
My word is weak
Like a weak pledge
No I don't miss those days
Fumbled a ten, but it don't matter
'Cause she didn't wanna flatter me
Stumbled to the Grammy's
Yeah, I think she need
I think she need a Plan B
Hop out the whip
Me and my homies, yeah we melon scented
Could not give a shit
If you don't know me then you're gettin' beheaded
Take yo ass to Funky Town
This just how the clique get down
Yeah I got that bumpy sound
No blicks
Knock yo ass to the ground
Ground
Knock yo ass to the what?
What?
Uh
As a feature it's my duty to outshine
I do not need you, Check The Rhime
I'm not even in my prime
And it's a crime
How I'm underrated
Crazy how I skated faded
Hated for the fact
That I'm cracked
At everything I do
Screaming out, fuck you
At the top of my class
Perfect use of the brass
My shit is so gas
Y'all barely get a pass
Now what else am I screaming out?
Kiss my ass
Uh
To my haters
See ya later
Know you trynna get the front seat
Fans is calling shotgun
Fastest faggot at the track meet
Holup now I got something
Yeah you know that I've won
Yeah you better fucking run
'Cause, y'all are all my sons
Uh
Uh
Uh
Yuh
Credits
Writer(s): Dillon Thornton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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