London on da track, bitch! We catch a body and we laugh about it I fucked her friend, I don't feel bad about it Grindin' is agonizing, but it's gratifying Skinny tires on a salad diet Ooh, I lost my mind, I'm like fuck everybody Yeah, I lost my mind, but I got extra copies Yeah, I fuck so long it feel like exercising I test the lyin' before testifying
All I got is hitters in my squad I could get you killed, all my niggas want the job I could get you killed, it just take a head nod I want you dead by tonight, that's a real deadline Zero fucks given I make her come to the condo butt naked Cause bitch ain't no stealin' She still come visit, she don't wanna leave She compared it to me leaving a witness I said I get it
I keep some cocaine on me for the bitches And this ak is not for decoration Fuckboys give me the heebee-jeebees I got a hit list like the yellow pages Hey, if she can suck a dick or snort a quaalude Then, ooh baby, you got my full attention Champagne expensive, it taste gooder vintage Open your nose, I put some sugar in it
I don't fuck around with them fuck-arounds I might fuck around and catch a body I got some niggas that'll hunt you down And catch you slippin' like you playin' hockey Woo, we catch a body and we laugh about it I fuck her friend, I don't feel bad about it Money and drugs, I'm talkin' math and science Skinny tires on a salad diet
Chopper leave you with a half a body Make sure he dead before we leave, my nigga grab his wallet Ooh, I got the hook up on them rocket launchers I told obama fuck with me, you know I got it Slim, you need to fuck with me you know I got it I know somebody that know somebody Look, traffic dying, we still trap or dyin' It's agonizing, but it's gratifying
Squad, I could get you killed, all my niggas want the job I could get you killed, it just take a head nod Want you dead by tonight, that's a real deadline Hold up - you ain't got no hitters in your squad I could get you killed, that's my real day job I'm a crime of passion, I'm a fuckin' hate crime Spit like I ate bombs - eminem on 8 mile I'm a motherfuckin' man, scarface, facemob
Pockets lookin' like the blob, chips like cape cod Bust your motherfuckin' egg till I see egg nog My bougie bitch ratchet, my ratchet bitch a straight snob Hold up, who know how to read gang signs? Cause we gon throw 'em up and we gon give 'em hang time I got white, I got brown; sell it at the same time That's that james brown, and that's that james bond
We catch a body and we laugh about it It's catastrophic but we glamorize it It's agonizin' but it's gratifyin' Skinny tires on a salad diet Chopper leave you with a half a body No hesitation, no stall like the bathroom crowded Chopper so big, so tall, it could wrap around me Triple a, astronomic and atomic Tunechi, and it's that sorry 4 the wait And I'm so sorry for the wait
Compositores: Dwayne Carter (Lil Wayne) (BMI), London Tyler Holmes (BMI)Editores: London On da Track Publishing (SESAC), Universal Tunes (SESAC)Publicado em 2015ECAD verificado obra #12984417 e fonograma #14268495 em 20/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM