[Intro]
Stop fuckin' frontin' man (I'll fuck you up)
Stop fuckin' frontin' I'll hit you with my car (I'll smack the shit out you)
Put your fuckin', I won't put you in the trunk nigga
I'll put your fuckin' head under the hood (fuck you up)
[Verse 1]
They love us, date us, hate us, then become spectators
Minked out, rockin' some fresh gators, we chess players
Street mayors, max rayers, silk-covered statues
Cashmere consultants radiantly comin' at you
Shout out to the white guy, Dave Stacks, and Hologram
Take it back to '98, hammers on the dollar van
My niggas move with honor man, plus we move with all my fam
Shout out to my nigga gam, I do this shit but I'm a fan
I still love it when some real shit drops
Convertible raps, you're 'bout to see this real shit pops
When done correctly, especially by Queens niggas that's 'bout it
Back me down, I doubt it, smack up faces when I'm crowded
On my low shit, always, four fifth, raw haze
Shout out to my niggas stayin' up hustlin' for days
I did that, peace out kid, I feel your struggle
But now I see further than that, just like the Hubble
Never the type to steal a hubcap, fuck that
This is boss shit, floss shit we thug rap
Clams and Moet for breakfast, nigga we does that
Might've seen me and Wilson in the Colosseum
Buyin' every tennis size 12 right when we see 'em
Scallops from Japan, but the whips European
Have this monuments and documents, the crib's like a museum
Barbecue Korean, got the grill built in the table
Ridin' dirty, 25 hammers just some able
Turn your buildin' to the Hard Rock Cafe
'Bout 200 thousand in the black attaché
Keep it in the briefcase
If that's lawyer money, it'll be a brief case
Laurenovich, fuck you
Stop fuckin' frontin' man (I'll fuck you up)
Stop fuckin' frontin' I'll hit you with my car (I'll smack the shit out you)
Put your fuckin', I won't put you in the trunk nigga
I'll put your fuckin' head under the hood (fuck you up)
[Verse 1]
They love us, date us, hate us, then become spectators
Minked out, rockin' some fresh gators, we chess players
Street mayors, max rayers, silk-covered statues
Cashmere consultants radiantly comin' at you
Shout out to the white guy, Dave Stacks, and Hologram
Take it back to '98, hammers on the dollar van
My niggas move with honor man, plus we move with all my fam
Shout out to my nigga gam, I do this shit but I'm a fan
I still love it when some real shit drops
Convertible raps, you're 'bout to see this real shit pops
When done correctly, especially by Queens niggas that's 'bout it
Back me down, I doubt it, smack up faces when I'm crowded
On my low shit, always, four fifth, raw haze
Shout out to my niggas stayin' up hustlin' for days
I did that, peace out kid, I feel your struggle
But now I see further than that, just like the Hubble
Never the type to steal a hubcap, fuck that
This is boss shit, floss shit we thug rap
Clams and Moet for breakfast, nigga we does that
Might've seen me and Wilson in the Colosseum
Buyin' every tennis size 12 right when we see 'em
Scallops from Japan, but the whips European
Have this monuments and documents, the crib's like a museum
Barbecue Korean, got the grill built in the table
Ridin' dirty, 25 hammers just some able
Turn your buildin' to the Hard Rock Cafe
'Bout 200 thousand in the black attaché
Keep it in the briefcase
If that's lawyer money, it'll be a brief case
Laurenovich, fuck you
( Meyhem Lauren )
www.ChordsAZ.com