Frontin

I'm a hustler, peddler --pusher
Salt n' pepper, I don't know how to tell her
But she look better, yes sir --- I'm leaving
Treason, guilty --- red-handedly filthy, explicit
Get it, police pay a visit like never
Sketchers, all of them around us
Cooked like a flounder
Booked, read them off the breaker
No look pass placer, don't fake
Buckets

Flush it, evidence is gone
Eatin' my custard like what's wrong
Accustomed to winning
Been denied corner like a loaner
Next week I'm hanging with Wynona Ryder
Get my driving shoes out the dryer
They don't belong, like you on a flyer
Finished up my custard like what's wrong
If you a superstar, they can't deny ya'
Prove them bamas' wrong, if not, they just gonna' call you a liar

Fishing, she told me that she miss me
Could it be that I was up on TV, miss me
Herb like Tim Duncan, never
Forever I be pumpin' like cocaine propeller planes in bad weather
Gettin' it, me and Lou --- we high top kickin' it
Me and London Michael, right-side drive, whippin' it
Yeah, I know it's sickenin' --- barf
Creating this type of living is an art



Credits
Writer(s): Tabi Bonney, D. Willis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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