Get Top On The Phone
Cause I wanted to see what it sounded like
Right
Can't tame you can tell by the tail
Not a dog but a mother fucking beast on the scale
Work hard, get scarred from the leash that I broke
Like Bart not far from the reach of the choke
But I'm reaching in totes
Got heat that'll bleach on your coat
Shit, my needs are keys to the Rolls
Peace to the hoes
Peace of the pie but the piece still grows
Get top on the phone
That's what they say right
Yeah, get top
Watch out for the red dot
When you're popping they want to send shots up at god
(MMH) Ready for anything
Just checked my balance, said ready for anything
I'm selling everything
And get it by any means
I'm not one to starve
Shit, crabs in a bucket
I'm sending buck shots to the back of the barrel
My passions apparently
Packing the crack that they pass in the back of the stairwell
Get a hazmat for the tendencies
This not Jay and Nas rap, nah
This not don rap, nah
This ready for combat, soldier and boss that be leading the charge
Who, who do we know with this many flows
Who really puts soul in this shit
I seen their little jokes with manicured toes
There's really some hoes in this bitch
I know when it comes to the hunger
I'm fucking that buffet up no jumper
22 steaks on the plate, no fluffer
Tupperware packed in the bag for my brother
Everyone eats round here
Right, yeah everyone eats
I've been on top of my shit
Walk with a brick, Deebo come now he walk with a limp
When the 0's come put a comma on it
Comma and comma and comma again
Period
Why you so serious
I got a myriad of flows, are you fucking delirious
Not Sirsee, not Curchi
None of those
Get it right
Right
Can't tame you can tell by the tail
Not a dog but a mother fucking beast on the scale
Work hard, get scarred from the leash that I broke
Like Bart not far from the reach of the choke
But I'm reaching in totes
Got heat that'll bleach on your coat
Shit, my needs are keys to the Rolls
Peace to the hoes
Peace of the pie but the piece still grows
Get top on the phone
That's what they say right
Yeah, get top
Watch out for the red dot
When you're popping they want to send shots up at god
(MMH) Ready for anything
Just checked my balance, said ready for anything
I'm selling everything
And get it by any means
I'm not one to starve
Shit, crabs in a bucket
I'm sending buck shots to the back of the barrel
My passions apparently
Packing the crack that they pass in the back of the stairwell
Get a hazmat for the tendencies
This not Jay and Nas rap, nah
This not don rap, nah
This ready for combat, soldier and boss that be leading the charge
Who, who do we know with this many flows
Who really puts soul in this shit
I seen their little jokes with manicured toes
There's really some hoes in this bitch
I know when it comes to the hunger
I'm fucking that buffet up no jumper
22 steaks on the plate, no fluffer
Tupperware packed in the bag for my brother
Everyone eats round here
Right, yeah everyone eats
I've been on top of my shit
Walk with a brick, Deebo come now he walk with a limp
When the 0's come put a comma on it
Comma and comma and comma again
Period
Why you so serious
I got a myriad of flows, are you fucking delirious
Not Sirsee, not Curchi
None of those
Get it right
Credits
Writer(s): Mike Summers
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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