Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ab-Soul, artist - Ab-Soul. Album song Long Term 1 & 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 05.04.2015
Record label: AAA
Song language: English
Ab-Soul |
| I’m a soldier mane, thought I told ya mane |
| I aim and flame ya, I’m the pro-to-pane |
| Niggas sizing me up like I’m buying a tux |
| So I interrupt, crease 'em, iron 'em up |
| With the nina, not talking 'bout the two singers |
| Cause a leprechaun wouldn’t even press his luck |
| I’m sure to pluck any chicken with a rhythm I could fuck |
| I tell 'em call me up |
| Like is it on or what, can I cut 'til dawn, or what? |
| A slut say she want a slice of all of us |
| Intelligent, say her marble’s marvelous |
| She go down south like black colleges |
| I’m a psychologist, I tell her I can adjust |
| Anything in the world that be bothering her |
| Everywhere I go, guarantee she go |
| Pussy pop on the low like a silencer |
| Back to the realest shit, cop a car, mash that |
| Crash that, then I’m back at the dealership |
| Diamonds on my necklace, diamonds on my left wrist |
| Diamonds on my right wrist, damnit I’m the brightest |
| Back to the realest shit |
| You an exclamation, fuck an explanation |
| Better watch yo lady! |
| (Boom!) Bounce (Boom!) Bounce |
| (Boom!) Bounce (Boom!) Bounce |
| Better watch yo lady! |
| Back to the realist shit, niggas ain’t raw |
| You grilling, I’mma menage a woman and I |
| Barrage, be intimate, a massage beginning with |
| Caress from her tongue, deep throat raw |
| Lot’s of trauma, ya baby momma |
| Brain is crazy: Jeffrey Dahmer |
| And I’m finna shoot like a dirty llama |
| Big truck kicking up dust: conquer |
| Chocolate seats: Willy Wonka |
| Passenger: Pretty Woman |
| Directed back, bring ya compass |
| You bringing Carson, you bringing Compton |
| Y’all bring the nonsense, we bring the real |
| Like pro tools, never gross 500 mil |
| And we out in Brazil, in the green like Blankas |
| Bonkers, tell 'em Top Dawg is here! |
| Back to the realest shit, cop a car, mash that |
| Crash that, then I’m back at the dealership |
| Diamonds on my necklace, diamonds on my left wrist |
| Diamonds on my right wrist, damnit I’m the brightest |
| Back to the realest shit |
| You an exclamation, fuck an explanation |
| Better watch yo lady! |
| (Boom!) Bounce (Boom!) Bounce |
| (Boom!) Bounce (Boom!) Bounce |
| Better watch yo lady! |
| I think it’s that give us that back |
| Whatever war you bring, send me to Iraq |
| I rap like my tongue was sitting on a match |
| You struck by lightning, frightening, gotta be a Heisman |
| Trophy, lowkey, the one and only |
| Slay a ho, play a ho like an oldie |
| Yup, and I’m dope like Opi |
| Um, so I’m out when the police |
| Come, like a nut, I’m a nut |
| For the bucks like a shotgun bust, and I bust |
| Venom inside the brains of young dames |
| Like Mr. Dash speaking to his kids on Jay-Z |
| We running the game |
| Y’all slipping like run in the rain |
| Ya bitches running away from y’all to us |
| In God we trust, at y’all we bust |
| Back to the realest shit, cop a car, mash that |
| Crash that, then I’m back at the dealership |
| Diamonds on my necklace, diamonds on my left wrist |
| Diamonds on my right wrist, damnit I’m the brightest |
| Back to the realest shit |
| You an exclamation, fuck an explanation |
| Better watch yo lady! |
| (Boom!) Bounce (Boom!) Bounce |
| (Boom!) Bounce (Boom!) Bounce |
| Better watch yo lady! |