Continues after the ad

    508 all on my side
    They gon' ride, they gon' ride
    Tell ya this a homicide
    Oh my God, oh my God
    I said I was gon' retire
    You got lied, you got lied
    I ain't got no stupid job
    This my life, this my, wait
    (All of y'all wishy and washy)

    This is God's plan, someone stop me
    I was sent here from Illuminati
    Evil scriptures written on my body
    Me and Satan pull up in a red Ferrari Don't be tryna put your stupid arm around me
    44 shots traumatizin'
    From the 45, hit 44 more
    Carbon copies wish you were somebody
    That's for e'rybody

    Continues after the ad

    Mama, Poppy, Sister, Brother, Cousin, Uncle, Auntie
    This is not Versace, this is hot hibachi
    This is panorama, this is life's a movie
    I'm Mahatma Gandhi, a crazy humanoid Anunnaki
    With plenty hammers when I'm ridin' shotty
    Better use your manners when you talk about me
    (Ain't too hard to find me)

    I've been killin' sockers, still ain't nothin' left though
    Joyner Lucas sicker than a strep throat Spanish shit that wanna give me besos
    They must've forgot I was next up
    Speed out your crib right then I'ma go to pocket put all of your money in a escrow
    F what you sayin' I'm not the one that you play with
    I think they really mistaken, I wasn't next up?
    You thought wrong and you all gone, all done
    I just might bring back Don Juan
    I just might bring back Sean John
    Tell P Diddy that I'm on one
    I'ma beat it down with a Du-Rag gettin' ate out, that's a PopCon promise with you, that's too bad
    My Jamaican chick got socks on
    every time I hit it she be like, wagwan

    Song details

    Composition: Joyner Lucas

    Did you see an error?

    Enviar revisão