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Bars For Days
Lick it, split it, twist it, hit it, splif it, pitch it, roll anotha. x4Haha, yo you see they probably wonder why I don't smileCuz this cats need to get there own styleHold the phone dialI go miles, when I'm sprinting on the beatYou get lifted of yo feetWhen yo spliffin up my treesQuit givin me a speechI really tryna hear thisSee with these lyricsI'm tryna run fearlessWe playing games in this jungle, jumanjiWith bomb tree, hidden under all my dirty laundryCall me an arm free fucking aroundI'm putting words in your mindSo you in love with the soundThey saving my placeTryna shove this food in my faceSo they force it down my throatTil I'm use to the tasteNow move to your placeCuz I'm campin out on topFresh kicks on my feetWhile you sititn in some socksCops tryna get me lockCatch me fucking with shenanigansBut ill just handle them and throw them in the ambulanceThey want to know what my hands is inScare me straightGet back bitch I ain't tryna share my plateWhats good fam, I love money, I will marry cake.Get a rich bitch like ashley and mary kate.And I ain't talking about one of themI'm getting bothI grab them and get a loAnd then take their money and their coatsI blow trees, so my mouth is always filled with smokeYou sniffin cokeSinging but you havent hit a notePlus that shit you wrote isnt set to carry a crowdI'm legendary anywhere that I'm outI'm sharing this poundWith my people like a how high sequelTold my people need to air out the houseSo beware of my mouthSpittin venom, coming out the cerebellumWith these kicks on my feet,See I told you I was gellinYou playin felonYou in stealin a pennyI put a hole in your belly like you oprah or jennyLick it, split it, twist it, hit it, splif it, pitch it, roll anotha. x4I sport a long white tee, fitted cap, baggy pants.If you see me be sure to slap my handSome people do it for the loveSome peiple do it cuz they canBut me, I'm tryna be legend like bag a vanceSome rap will make you thinkWhile other shit will make you danceSo I bump what ever is in the systemTryin to make some plansI just want to see whats good for the night timeIf nothings hype, ima head up to crib and write rhymesAge like white wine, nicer by the second,Thats why I never put punctuation on a sentenceCuz the song goes on, here a dope songIf they say I wasnt for real, then you was told wrongSee you ain't on, what we onYou bright, I'm neonI'm smoking up the weed till the tree goneYeaahhMy life is up and down like a sew sawSo I stay with a bitch like leon...phelps
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