AWA

Black Acura

Track byPac Div

2
0
  • 2012.10.02
  • 4:19
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歌詞

Show out for the girls and get your ass whipped On some 8th grade, right front of the class shit You gon' try to test me but I'mma pass it I'm a motherfuckin' genius and you in some bad shit Step 'round a corner with my crewneck on Hammer can't touch me, man I'm too hands on I don't know you man, we ain't never been to school together We ain't ever shared weed, bitches, or ate food, never! They say money never sleeps, gotta have two hustles Since I'm bagging duffles, I got ashy knuckles Carry 'em to the bank, now I got big muscles Man I do my thing, I got fans in Brussels [Chorus] Y'all think I made it, I'm just getting started Man I'm just saying, that shit retarded Y'all think I made it, I'm just getting started Man I'm just saying, y'all shit retarded (I just got excited, man I almost farted That's too much information, my bad, I'm sorry We got syndication, our shit go hardest) And that's why she chose and that's why you losing, my nigga you garbage Not to be harsh but fuck it, your bitches look parched and busted And I bet that you be carpet munching, that shit we spark be skunking That Pepé Le Pew and you know we be repping the crew Pac Div, you second to who? Maaaaan, ain't nobody be checking for you Must we remind again, must you rewind again I'm off three Heinekens, and this shit is effortless too I done stepped on your shoes and spit in your face Disrespected yo bitch in your place You still want a autograph? Gimme a break, I'm sick and disgraced These niggas is fake, bitches is fake, man shit is just fake I just stay to myself, I don't get in the way Got bread to get, got head to get, rap etiquette, don't edit this Need evidence, been repping it, ever since... bitch! [Chorus] We overfaded in the function and we getting started Shit, a nigga blew three blunts 'fore we finished parking That OG make a nerd broad get retarded A pretty bitch's dream, a freaky bitch's Mr. Marcus Popping up for that revenue, standing tall like I'm 7'2" You ain't cut from that same cloth, hell nah we ain't gettin' no checks with you No you can't get no checks with me, get these niggas from next to me Backstage drinking up the Yac, nigga you ain't get no text from me Shit pull up, I can pump your brakes, that's dopeboy shit we pumping base Flex so hard my muscles ache, stack that bread then tuck the safe If it's game day, I quarterback, that's on me, them boys is back All I know is that fly shit, got pimp game on my boarding pass Fuck what you talking 'bout, I be making G's Posted up in the parking lot, dangling my keys Fuck what you talking 'bout, I was overseas Posted up, Polo down, catch me dangling my keys If you try, you'll find I'm rhyming in some Iversons In the ocean, riding dolphins, grab 'em by the fin Uh, yea bitch I'm ten feet tall Bunch of hoes playing with my beach balls The money in the way, I don't see y'all Finally making paper legal Bitch I'm flyer than a seagull Fresh as fuck, that's by default I hit Schoolboy Q to borrow bucket hats Why you talking little homie, go and run a lap Fuck that shit, I been ether Have these bitches running like a gym teacher So you can go and do a hundred drills Twenty years old with a couple mill It's nothing, I'mma go for more Just became a wizard, bitch I'm Okafor Same shit you been told before These some raps out the fucking baking soda drawer Yea I spit that crack bitch Mac Div

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