Serving

Ay yo, servin'
S-Servin'
S-Servin'

Ay yo, whether or not it's not pushing blocks
Cushions n' chush draw
Servin' is, what we do most
Certainly on the coast
Novelty with it
Niggas is lottery numbers
Balling is constantly
In and out of the slum
Gotta keep my hustling steady
In and out of the summer
You niggas messy, spaghetti
We in and out like the burger
Servin' them 24/7, seven eleven we servin'
9 to 5 is my motto
Red Davis, we working
Red daytons, playa
Picture that pedal pedaling through you
With the spinners reflecting off of the puddles in the sewer
See, that clack don't move
Weaving them fiends right to you

With that smile on, suckers

Like I never knew a cooler nigga

Servin'
Windows tinted leanin' with the central tracks
Ay yo, servin'
Bossing on them bros with the mirror slacks
Ay yo, servin'
Even when them curbs when they shootin' (servin')
Kill 'em when that instrumental keep 'em (servin')

Big wheel, gleam how I lean on 'em (servin')
Pull up on the scene with the beat ballin' (servin')

50 in my jeans, with the fiends calling (servin')
Even when that instrumental raw

24/7 heavyweights
City or state to state

Beating a whip right out the Super 8
You kidding my nigga, with a syringe
Loop breaks, praising your savior behind shades

Bruising fools, mommy on the, uh
Catch a body when I Glock
Pop a shotty, dying love, hun
No offense, bummy we resent

Probably bumping 2Pacalypse, swervin'
Third figure, 50 bird kilo you get served
Herb or either let it burn, word
Malt liquor slang from the blur

Picture tryna get right 'fore the first

Earn amount or nothing for your bank account
Grind like the brakes is out
Three kings 'bout to get royally slain
Fresh rap in a foil for fiends

Servin'
Windows tinted leanin' with the central tracks
Ay yo, servin'
Bossing on them bros with the mirror slacks

Ay yo, servin'
Even when them curbs when they shootin' (servin')
Kill 'em when that instrumental keep 'em (servin')
Big wheel, gleam how I lean on 'em (servin')
Pull up on the scene with the beat ballin' (servin')
50 in my jeans, with the fiends calling (servin')
Even when that instrumental raw

I spliff herb and get served
It's the word about these picture perfect
I piss on curves, like I'm freaking nervous
I'm just a pervert, looking at a bitch that's looking sherbert
Sorbet, metropolitans, smoke and drink
Marys get married to Cosmopolitans
Bottled it in (?) I go in like a gentleman
Headed to an optometry
To see if I'm a simple men
With bigger plans, no kiddie land
My head spins, shorter than Mini-Me
I'm the titty man, hand me some titties man
I got titty hands, counting paper

Like a busy man with like 50 grand
I got opportunity I see
Sick with a disease, nigga catching your decease
Rest in peace, nigga, please no resurrection
I'll accept it If I'm included
In the will written on your fuckin' death bed
That's well said, and heaven said it
And it all began at city college, eleven credits

Servin'
Windows tinted leanin' with the central tracks
Ay yo, servin'
Bossing on them
Ay yo, servin'
Even when them curbs when they shootin' (servin')
Kill 'em when that instrumental keep 'em (servin')



Credits
Writer(s): Otis Jackson Jr, Nicholas Rodriguez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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