| My face shining, looking like some salmon skin
|
| All twelve Reggie Hammond, holding hammers him
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| Never speak, he like that short silent type
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| I’m in the mountains shovin' knives, drinking wine at night
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| Rose petals get thrown to the feet
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| Know we grow knee 'cause even in this rap don’t work we got stones in the street
|
| Go down in Tallahassee, work and come home in a week
|
| See me stoned in a Jeep with the chrome on the feet
|
| Leather overalls, shirtless like I’m Kells in the street
|
| Posing for flicks, leaning on an English whip
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| With the float ware straight from the aquarium
|
| My bitch built like Secretariat, yeah, bring the chariot
|
| I fuck the pussy, not marry it, world on my shoulders, dougie, I carry it
|
| I’m more than happy with my bitch, she got no saggy tits
|
| I’ll do it old school style and give her baggy dick
|
| Rock, rock, very
|
| Slow, slow, steady
|
| Base, base, heavy
|
| Drum, drums, ready
|
| They talk in cents, diamonds in our tooths and dinner (ice)
|
| Rap game Burt Reynolds in a candy canteloupe car rental
|
| I’m in the trash compactor, black shades like famous actor
|
| Bank account doin' gymnastics, flip
|
| 40 cal. |
| in the Razorback starter jacket (Arkansas)
|
| I switch up like south paw, frozen teeth look like tiger claws
|
| Look like a penguin massaged my upper gums and lower jaws (igloos)
|
| My wedding gifts consists of Versace blenders, ice out contenders,
|
| didn’t mean to offend you
|
| When I pull up the, in the candy leather
|
| Flush out the system with niacin, 40 lines of the Vicodin
|
| Still childish and violent, with appetite for violins
|
| Disappearing act like Sister, Sister
|
| Lost the biscuits, city slickers, rap game Billy Crystal
|
| Pass our nuts, shit, ain’t no courtesy flush
|
| Fuck black bitches till they bruise, white hoes till they flush
|
| Fuck pretty bitches in their face, thick hoes in their butts
|
| Bumping mace
|
| sipping more lean with goldie
|
| Sweaty minks in the summer like it’s snowing
|
| Pummel all opponents turn gold if I concentrate
|
| Scrape the plate rap for my team, bought a cheese greater
|
| Eggplant, parmesan with seen him do a pushup on the back of his head
|
| Acting like I’m certified, niggas get nervous when I’m walking
|
| Nudge each other and whisper that’s him
|
| Y’all niggas, cooch, pussies
|
| I’mma cool off his noose on the loose sipping hooch
|
| Flow’s out the colon, TYB chosen, bust it wide open with my staff like Moses
|
| Motherfucker
|
| Bounce to the left, shake it to the right
|
| Now pop it up once, we gon' dance tonight |