The Ol Switcharoo (feat. Boldy James)

Conductor Williams

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    Across the Tracks
    Where we at?
    What else? (Choo, choo)
    Yeah
    227
    (Conductor beats)
    ConCreatures
    Yeah
    Let's get it

    Trainwreck, pale face with the plain set, Day and Date but the bezel fluid
    My bitch hit my line, bitches all in the background of the stu', I don't ever mute it
    Told Wop I think I'm finna close shop, in this street shit I'm heavy-rooted
    This that stove god sweating over the stove top, blue flame under the kettle music
    Back when four hours was a long flight, took a cold shower, it was no lights
    All them long hours and them cold nights got my wrist flickin' like a strobe light
    Nigga couldn't even get the wheels started, paint his frame, I'm a real artist
    All my life I've been a drill sergeant, tryna oversaturate the pill market
    Caught a 630, Auntie Nadine's, like I'm Big Percy selling ice cream
    Like a McFlurry and some pralines, know my whip dirty but the place clean
    Only reason I trap because the only thing promised to me was the state bing
    Hatin' on me, you need to relax, only reason I rap 'cause I can't sing
    Just ranned off with an eighteen, heard he put that money on my head like a Begin
    My bitch hate that I'm too nonchalant, brand new Saint Laurent, came from selling fake jeans
    In the trenches I'm waist-deep, fully AP, switcheroo on my belt buckle
    Thirty-clip in my new nine, used it a few times, it left a bruise on my left knuckle
    Let's get it

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    I love when she role play, poppin' her shit like some rosé
    She tell me we soulmates, I damn near believe everything that this ho say
    How she all about me like do-re? Ginuwine can't sugar no Solé
    But she be like: You got this shit sewed up and knitted, I don't even know how to crochet
    Whip the 28 and get a four tray, nigga damn near spent the whole day
    East, west, running back and forth tryna run his money up the long way
    Stepped on it like a bunion, had a run-ion for the money-ion
    Sold more circles than some Funyuns, all eyes on me through the tollways

    Only built for my Cubanos, thinking out loud like: What would my stove say?
    It'd probably would say that: Them some nice kicks, they look like Skechers but they Dolce
    Spin the work up like a merry-go, titties on the fully, no areola
    The paint on the two-seater lookin' like I spilt a two-liter of cherry cola
    All these all-nighters gave me vertigo, out here servin' blow on the river with Percival
    All praise to the merciful, choppin' the mozzy but with the shotty I get surgical
    Always business, never personal, the whip foreign, call it Turkalo
    You want a bag? Bitch, I'll Birkin you, seen a big dollar off a conjugal
    Mr. Pink Runtz with the snowballs, re-up money lookin' like it's Snowfall
    From Forest to Witty, if me and Forrest Whittaker'll pull up in that Ghost, dawg
    Double Rs in the headrest, motherfuck yourself but bitch, I'm Brick James
    Supercharge on all the Range Rovers, big Bs on that big thing
    Football seats pig skin, paid my dues, put my bid in
    Sippin' mud with the pig pens, in the club snuck the strig in

    Yeah

    Song details

    Composition: Conductor Williams

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