Tis The Season (feat. Joey Bada$$)

This is the fucking resurrection

Get the fuck up niggas

The restoration of that real shit

HS 87

I be posing for photos, eating at Sotto Sotto

Maxing .44s, bought that straps from the cholos

Packed in low lows, smell like Swisha packs and dodo

For sure sure, this that Austin Powers mojo flow

[?] never disrespect the bro code

You mofos couldn't get over my bars with a pole vault

I'll Titanic any rapper trying to show boat

Notorious, Big L, if I Pac this that ghost flow

We pass out licks, will pass my bitch before I will pass the dutch

Disrespect you see tecs, UPS might package you

Love a brown skin, thick, phat ass that bounce back at you

You niggas biting Count Dracula

We getting money we laugh at you

Now hold it

This the part where I finally woken

Drinking potion til I'm choking, Clarence Carter I be stroking

This that bitch I made in motion, your girl wanna fuck no joking

She told me she's home alone and tonight I'm Macaulay Culkin

We out here balling for no reason

So much money, white folks is calling us heathens

We giving meat to these women claiming they vegan

(We giving meat to these women claiming they vegan.)

Tis the season to be balling for no reason

Fuck it Iâm not responsible

Tis the season to be balling for no reason

Fuck you Iâm not responsible

Tis the season to be balling for no reason

Fuck you Iâm not responsible

You hear that new strain gun powder

Shoot it up your veins and puff power

Fiends on that chemical X for enough hours

When that adrenalin Russian roulette surrounds you

Cock it, cock it, when you had enough

And once you take it out the socket

Energy surge when you touch it, bring it, babe watch it

Turn up, little something, keep that boom box thumping

That bass, that loud, her system be jumping

I just hope the speaker ain't bomb bumping

She take my jewels and she blow like she drive something

It's a must that she know that I ain't nutting

I ain't nothing

Stereotype humping the wall

Acne on her face be bumping and all

I be that loco in my 47 cholos

Please don't take no photos if it ain't of nosotros

Open up those Ojos, stop choking up that pork

Get your hustle on the floor

Hit the door

I got that good shit for the low I let them know

So line them up, line them up, we 'bout to blow

Give me the snare and that kick

I need it the snare and that kick

I came to talk on my shit

You hating, hop off my dick

I'm MVP of this game

Same nigga, ain't shit changed

So if you wasn't here when I was walking

Then bitch don't get on that plane

Here we go

You niggas can't be serious, come on fam

I got a list of niggas I'm ready to stunt on fam

Like I'm the little nigga that you used to front on man

You still work at the same spot from when I left on, damn

Okay, you can talk on your shit, I'mma just make more hits

My team is winning by so much we'll make yours quit

Like I wear a size 5 nigga, I will never forfeit

Like size 5, 4, fit...

Ah, nigga fuck that shit

I step in fresher than two showers

You got dressed for like two hours

Your bitch like my girl

She came with me, you too sour

My niggas all real niggas

Your niggas are true cowards

I'm the king of the hill I don't need Hank, Bobby, or Boomhauer

To tell me that, don't want your shit, don't sell me that

Cops on us, we selling crack

Every bar on every track, no holding back

Hit told me we got to bring the West back so I helped him

So ladies and gentlemen, California's finally back

You're welcome, Oktane