Friends

Yo, this this that Jaylib shit right here
Let me rhyme over this
Talk about my so-called friends
Aiyyo God bless the child who hold his own
And never wanna touch a microphone
Cause the game's addictive, and leave you inflicted
With a bad case of chase the dead president's face
But I know how to pace myself, embrace the wealth
Make time for the dotted line
But when we find some contract, got a con tryin to stab our back
We sever them ties - wash them lies off!
And dry off in the truth
Wonder Why say it, I proofreads
Some speed past and think I won't catch the ink
I don't match with the main word
I heard your bitin before
And it's just a way to get more
Out of America, the land of the wants and needs
Where the flame of greed is hard to put out
So the output is to put yourself first, and worse
Everything that grows from out the Earth is quicker to die
Cause the clouds been actin hard and they too stubborn to cry
But when the rain comes the main drums'll have De La on the track
And whether y'all back us or front
Ain't nuttin gonna stop the progress
Less niggas more money in the pocket to profit from
To then hold loaves of bread instead of crumbs
Aight, now let me talk about my friend
Who some cases that's your girl, check it out
Yo when we clash like titans, I write wars
Rock white tees in L.A. and that's yours
Your brain cell catch that? You move slow
Turtle wax your muscle with this jackrabbit
And crack habits kick that "Rock Co.Kane" and when we rhyme
She call me every night and say the dicking's on her mind
Signin like sex, cause sex don't talk
Deaf mute parachutin down to New York like (whistling)
Yeah, I can be your gent
Horses and carriages, roses and wine
Twats are gorgeous but I fucks wit'cha mine
Drownin in ya milk givers, the guilt with us
Cause I got another pair on the other side of town
When she get up to go to work, that's when I get down
Runnin episodes like B.E.T
Over and over like B.E.T
Back shots like a muffler hiccup
Put the boy in your mouth, and drink up!
We on the sink, we on the balcony, we on the stars
A Little Dipper in you, but not in miniature
A co-signed love, but no signature
We dead stop it like Blacksmith ops
Pack bag, drag race back to the shop
Servin coffee over cock over donut holes
We don't sweat a bit cause we know them hoes
Servin coffee over cock over donut holes
I won't sweat your chick cause I know her
Yeah I know her, she my friend
"Friends, how many of us have them?"
"Friends, the ones we can depend on"