Holiday Inns
I'm back on the track
I'm back in the bag
She thought it back
She asked for ass
She asked for cash
I'm asking for ass
I'm throwing her back
Like I'm throwing her tracks
I'm back on the map
I'm back I'm scrap
They don't wanna scrap
I'm ready to attack
I'm ready to get it
I'm ready to go
I'm ready to smoke
I'm ready to blow
I'm rhyming in reasoning
I'm coming in seasoning
She's on it she's leaning
I'm grinning I'm teasing
I'm back in Buffalo
For this reason
It's family time
They committing them crimes
I'm rolling a sack
I'm smoking a dime
She's smoking a quarter
She come from the border
Tay Biggs DoorDash
Taking orders
I'm running em up
They hushing em up
I'm filming it up
I'm bag em up
Toe tagging em up
They holding me up
They up in my path
Can't fold em up
They up in my pocket
They can't stop it
I sit back (yes) like a rocket
I'm taking a cut they taking it up
They take it to Northee
I'm taken In What
Verse
They say Boy Dot you on the clock
I told em wait for this shit drop
Got the bag in the duffel
We cutting it up
Dishing it out to the network
And saying who want what
When those pioneers tuck it up
We bucket it up crush it up
We rushing shit up
It's like gold rush
And we tucking it up
The king of the local
King of the soakers
Semi toaker rover roping
Like I'm coming in doper
Take it with the splitter
Track get hiccups
You wanna talk all your shit
Until we get the Blicker
Start a blast on you folds
Then you take it to your sold
Then we roll like a undercover
And we comin light the stove
Who stole the nightmare on elm street
Microphone spin zzz"s we comin like crim zee
The Crips of talker
I'm speaking like a lurker
My semi start to sparker
When semi start to spark up
It goes black
On that semi track
I put it back like that
You nigga wack
This track is getting up there
You nigga swear that y'all can touch
These skills
That mac a tracker Mac of local
Start to steer at your glare
The pistol whipped the tricker
Those hippa start to dippa
I flip the script the trippa
I roll like crippa I bang it on that local
That semi semi toker that rope roper
Choker that flow start to coast up
I'm back in the bag
She thought it back
She asked for ass
She asked for cash
I'm asking for ass
I'm throwing her back
Like I'm throwing her tracks
I'm back on the map
I'm back I'm scrap
They don't wanna scrap
I'm ready to attack
I'm ready to get it
I'm ready to go
I'm ready to smoke
I'm ready to blow
I'm rhyming in reasoning
I'm coming in seasoning
She's on it she's leaning
I'm grinning I'm teasing
I'm back in Buffalo
For this reason
It's family time
They committing them crimes
I'm rolling a sack
I'm smoking a dime
She's smoking a quarter
She come from the border
Tay Biggs DoorDash
Taking orders
I'm running em up
They hushing em up
I'm filming it up
I'm bag em up
Toe tagging em up
They holding me up
They up in my path
Can't fold em up
They up in my pocket
They can't stop it
I sit back (yes) like a rocket
I'm taking a cut they taking it up
They take it to Northee
I'm taken In What
Verse
They say Boy Dot you on the clock
I told em wait for this shit drop
Got the bag in the duffel
We cutting it up
Dishing it out to the network
And saying who want what
When those pioneers tuck it up
We bucket it up crush it up
We rushing shit up
It's like gold rush
And we tucking it up
The king of the local
King of the soakers
Semi toaker rover roping
Like I'm coming in doper
Take it with the splitter
Track get hiccups
You wanna talk all your shit
Until we get the Blicker
Start a blast on you folds
Then you take it to your sold
Then we roll like a undercover
And we comin light the stove
Who stole the nightmare on elm street
Microphone spin zzz"s we comin like crim zee
The Crips of talker
I'm speaking like a lurker
My semi start to sparker
When semi start to spark up
It goes black
On that semi track
I put it back like that
You nigga wack
This track is getting up there
You nigga swear that y'all can touch
These skills
That mac a tracker Mac of local
Start to steer at your glare
The pistol whipped the tricker
Those hippa start to dippa
I flip the script the trippa
I roll like crippa I bang it on that local
That semi semi toker that rope roper
Choker that flow start to coast up
Credits
Writer(s): Philip Orange, Terrance Laron Allen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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