| [00:01.719] |
Look for me, lost in a whirlwind, 2012 quality |
| [00:06.065] |
High up until the world ends, doing eighty-five in my ride |
| [00:09.451] |
And these *************s hiding, know I'm striding like a giant |
| [00:12.247] |
I ain't lying when I'm rhyming, rule these *************s like a tyrant |
| [00:15.309] |
Damn, Doms, it don't even seem like you trying |
| [00:18.177] |
Know these *************s crucify 'em, couldn't crack him I'm a diamond |
| [00:21.382] |
I know that *************s is finding my progression so uncommon |
| [00:24.378] |
The pressure I'm still applying until I hear the angels crying |
| [00:27.591] |
Sad day in Hell for those who doubted, hope your head explode |
| [00:30.648] |
Cry about it, but don't deny that Doms got the realest flows |
| [00:33.840] |
My eyes is feeling low, pulling on the killer 'dro |
| [00:36.850] |
Chilling with a vixen, thinking "This is what I did it for" |
| [00:39.832] |
Still banging, Wolf Ganging as if you *************s didn't know |
| [00:42.762] |
Still trifling, Loiter Litter Life and triple sixing, ho |
| [00:46.563] |
Doms, while they ripping through the packaging to grab the *************t |
| [00:55.721] |
I'm shaded with the few whom I usually blow cabbage with |
| [00:58.648] |
New patterns patty-caking with mannequins |
| [01:01.827] |
Cause I don't like my ******* homies dip, bruh, they all |
| [01:05.086] |
Jaw-slacking, all 'em awe struck |
| [01:08.327] |
And I ain't got *************t but a pretty ************* and cigar tucks |
| [01:11.080] |
Riding in the city and knocking out in the Starbucks |
| [01:13.960] |
I swear these *************s is ******* phony, smoking spliffs |
| [01:17.252] |
And that's, prior to arriving to the studio |
| [01:20.221] |
Eyes glued to a gluteus maximus, attractive lady |
| [01:24.157] |
Where you headed with that *************t? |
| [01:25.803] |
And can a real ************* get a look at it? Crook, panic-shook |
| [01:29.850] |
Ain't ya? Blunt fatter than some butch ankles |
| [01:33.122] |
Cheffing, fit the cook apron, ante up for good payment |
| [01:35.919] |
Run until my foot achy, running 'til my foot aching |
| [01:39.082] |
Full-grown terror type, Ferragamo do-rag |
| [01:42.113] |
With my ************* Travy out in Maui, running two-mans |
| [01:45.057] |
Smoking 'till I'm loopy as a mother******* toucan |
| [01:48.180] |
20 minutes, burn a ******* quarter back to two grams |
| [01:51.303] |
But I'mma dip, I know you must have had it with my rude ass |
