Lyrics
Oh, yeah, man
Some of the best though
Know what I'm sayin'?
That LNDN DRGS
That Larry June, you know what I mean?
"2 P'z in a Pod," you know what I'm sayin'?
Somethin' like, you know, Max Julien
And motherfuckin' Ron O'Neal, you know what I mean?
I'm talkin' Super Fly and Goldie, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
Yeah, though
Get in where you fit in, nigga
What's happenin'?
House smell like vanilla cream
Egyptian cotton pillow sheets
She woke up to that good dick, I had her fall right back asleep
Velvet slipper house shoes feel cozy, it surround my feet
Syrup on my pancakes for breakfast with my chai tea
Turn on the TV, yeah, somethin' 'bout Spike Lee
He Got Game, Mo' Better, or Do the Right Thing
Wocky tastes better in tropical, it's a Sprite thing
No, mama, no, mama, this ain't no iced tea
Watching Ron O'Neal slap bitches, it only felt right
Especially if her ass won't listen, don't make me take flight
Jimmy, that's my brother forever, we had a late night
Helicopter droppin' off birdies, wait, I said too much
Why these rappers lie in they raps, but actin' too tough?
All white like all you would thought you seen was the Ku Klux
Never scuffing none of my Jordans, you suckers poo-putts
Larry gon' light up the Dutchy, I'm drinking straight mud
I'm sittin' back sippin' this juice, I got the upper hand
Wipin' down the counters in my kitchen, thinkin' Benjamin
Audiobook playin' (playin')
John Wick on the table
Baby walked in with twenty G's, took her to Chanel (sock it to me)
Calculate a couple mil' (man)
Make sure it was vacuum sealed (yeah)
My income perpetual (check it out)
This platinum, not stainless steel (uh)
Hoppin' out the newest shit (damn)
Probably with my newest bitch (yeah)
I don't even rap, I spread knowledge, I got a lot to give (uh)
Touchdown, flight to Boston
Countin' up, I'm exhausted