Armstrong

Jem supreme, preme, preme
She say that I'm real strong
(Yeah, I'm real strong)
I feel like Armstrong

(I feel like you Armstrong)
Ah, yeah, yeah, mm, mm, mm
Nobody ever gave me shit
Ah, yea

OK, let me flex my muscle
She say that I'm real strong
Zaza got me on the moon just like I'm Neil Armstrong

And ain't nobody give me shit
I had to get it on my own
OK, lil' bro broke as fuck
He look like he need a loan

Ah, yeah
Nine times out of 10, I'm the one who gon' win
We the ones who really spin
We shipping packs like UPS

We get them in
Break down that box, and then I'm gone I'm in that wind

I like guns and funds
12 hit they lights, and then we run

Ain't no 1 on 1s
But these niggas know I'm 1 of 1
We sum like Easter eggs
We gone take them crackers on a hunt

He play we leave him dead
We gone leave him red like fruit
Skirt off in that jaguar
I'm riding in a fast car

Speed off in that NASCAR.

I just want an audemar he try to run hit at
his head

He know he ain't gettin' far away

The way I'm stepping on they necks
I should've played on Stomp the yard
They thought I took a Viagra, cause I'm coming hard
He diss the gang we gon' bag

Em send him to the stars
This shit cut deep
It done left a scar
And yeah, I rap

I pop the cut, turn to a shooting star
Yeah, I remember days when I ain't have nobody
Riding with the Glock, nigga, I be damn If you try me
I want the money bags, but I ain't yo gotti

I'm a grown ass man, nigga, watch how I pop
Okay, let me flex my muscle
She say that I'm real strong
Zaza got me on the moon

Just like I'm Neil Armstrong
And ain't nobody give me shit
I had to get it on my own
Okay, lil' bro broke as fuck

He look like he need a loan
Oh, yeah
Nine times out of ten
I'm the one who gon' win

We the ones who really spin
We shippin' packs like UPS
We get them in
Break down that box and then I'm gone

We in the win
I like guns and funds
12 hit they lights and then we run
Ain't no one on one

But these niggas know I'm 1 of 1
We sum like Easter eggs
We gon' take them crackers on a hunt
He play we leave him dead

We gone leave him red like fruit punch
Yeah, what
Fast, fast car
NASCAR

Ah, ah, ah
Ain't gettin' far
Like stomp the yard
And cause im coming hard



Credits
Writer(s): Jakahi Aiken
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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