All of these trynabes they wanting some of my business
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
I don't be clapping for ya'll, people be wanting a hand now
Cause they know I'm a stand out
Even the youngins are runnin with bands now
So it's better you stand down
These people been thinking this shit has been planned out
From the way that it's panned out
I just be sitting not making a damn sound
Come to me you get stamped out
Now I'm fanned out
I be living it topside, I be keeping it steady
All of these people who bug me I cut ties and I bring a machete
All of this evil be leaking through shot eyes from a seat at the telly
Locked minds, that are dribbling jelly and oxides
While they're filling their belly it's not nice
Tryna fit it together through tough times
But I'm sittin' here ready
Sometimes it's difficult sticking to 9-5 when I'm thinkin' of selling
Tryna keep vitamins, minerals uptight stay committed to shredding
I'm upright tryna finish my sentence but buck-eyed cause I finished the henny
All of these trynabes they wanting some of my business
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
I don't like slack so I pick up mine
I don't bite raps just to pick up likes
I don't like slaps giving lip
Shut her up one rack hows that for a pick up line,
I don't like traps or the stick up types
Frontin' like that get you hit up nice
Run on my track better stay in line
Or you can suck on my sack I won't say it twice
No raps counteracting the fact that the
Count Dracula's back with vernacular
Don't try when the sound of your raps
Like I'm drowning a rat or retracting a catheter,
All my tracks are exact and immaculate
Like I add and subtract em in calculus
Matter fact get the book and board up
F*cken look I'll draw it up, show you pussy boys how to spit
Wound down by the sound now you're out of it
Sound proud but you're loud cause you're counterfeit
Bow down I'll go pound for pound with any clown in this town
But I bet it won't amount to shit
And I was settling it down for the sound to pop
But now I'm heading for the crown in the south of oz
Better get down when I send rounds
I make every one count like a veteran found a Glock
I bend pens with the sentence I'm bout to jot
Like Ben ten but offensive without the watch
I set trends and consensus cause friends are intensive
It ends up expensive like countertops
Once I get tense don't know how to stop
I don't like seshin' with powder rocks
Get sent to defensive again
No offense to my friends but that's why I'm not out a lot
So you don't wanna tip at me when I'm ripping a beat
Your shit I rip to smithereens with a frickin' machine
Give a shit for inner scenes yet I sit in your screen
Dribbling a bit of rhythm in a lyrical scheme
Shit is pitiful you're minimal and fickle to me
So sit still for a minute when I'm ripping a beat
Now my rhythm is disgusting and lyrics are combusting
And bustin the wall down so listen to me
All of these trynabes they wanting some of my business
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
Local GP - My Business Lyrics
Local GP - My Business Lyrics
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
All of these trynabes they wanting some of my business
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
I don't be clapping for ya'll, people be wanting a hand now
Cause they know I'm a stand out
Even the youngins are runnin with bands now
So it's better you stand down
These people been thinking this shit has been planned out
From the way that it's panned out
I just be sitting not making a damn sound
Come to me you get stamped out
Now I'm fanned out
I be living it topside, I be keeping it steady
All of these people who bug me I cut ties and I bring a machete
All of this evil be leaking through shot eyes from a seat at the telly
Locked minds, that are dribbling jelly and oxides
While they're filling their belly it's not nice
Tryna fit it together through tough times
But I'm sittin' here ready
Sometimes it's difficult sticking to 9-5 when I'm thinkin' of selling
Tryna keep vitamins, minerals uptight stay committed to shredding
I'm upright tryna finish my sentence but buck-eyed cause I finished the henny
All of these trynabes they wanting some of my business
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
I don't like slack so I pick up mine
I don't bite raps just to pick up likes
I don't like slaps giving lip
Shut her up one rack hows that for a pick up line,
I don't like traps or the stick up types
Frontin' like that get you hit up nice
Run on my track better stay in line
Or you can suck on my sack I won't say it twice
No raps counteracting the fact that the
Count Dracula's back with vernacular
Don't try when the sound of your raps
Like I'm drowning a rat or retracting a catheter,
All my tracks are exact and immaculate
Like I add and subtract em in calculus
Matter fact get the book and board up
F*cken look I'll draw it up, show you pussy boys how to spit
Wound down by the sound now you're out of it
Sound proud but you're loud cause you're counterfeit
Bow down I'll go pound for pound with any clown in this town
But I bet it won't amount to shit
And I was settling it down for the sound to pop
But now I'm heading for the crown in the south of oz
Better get down when I send rounds
I make every one count like a veteran found a Glock
I bend pens with the sentence I'm bout to jot
Like Ben ten but offensive without the watch
I set trends and consensus cause friends are intensive
It ends up expensive like countertops
Once I get tense don't know how to stop
I don't like seshin' with powder rocks
Get sent to defensive again
No offense to my friends but that's why I'm not out a lot
So you don't wanna tip at me when I'm ripping a beat
Your shit I rip to smithereens with a frickin' machine
Give a shit for inner scenes yet I sit in your screen
Dribbling a bit of rhythm in a lyrical scheme
Shit is pitiful you're minimal and fickle to me
So sit still for a minute when I'm ripping a beat
Now my rhythm is disgusting and lyrics are combusting
And bustin the wall down so listen to me
All of these trynabes they wanting some of my business
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
I don't be clapping for ya'll, people be wanting a hand now
Cause they know I'm a stand out
Even the youngins are runnin with bands now
So it's better you stand down
These people been thinking this shit has been planned out
From the way that it's panned out
I just be sitting not making a damn sound
Come to me you get stamped out
Now I'm fanned out
I be living it topside, I be keeping it steady
All of these people who bug me I cut ties and I bring a machete
All of this evil be leaking through shot eyes from a seat at the telly
Locked minds, that are dribbling jelly and oxides
While they're filling their belly it's not nice
Tryna fit it together through tough times
But I'm sittin' here ready
Sometimes it's difficult sticking to 9-5 when I'm thinkin' of selling
Tryna keep vitamins, minerals uptight stay committed to shredding
I'm upright tryna finish my sentence but buck-eyed cause I finished the henny
All of these trynabes they wanting some of my business
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
I don't like slack so I pick up mine
I don't bite raps just to pick up likes
I don't like slaps giving lip
Shut her up one rack hows that for a pick up line,
I don't like traps or the stick up types
Frontin' like that get you hit up nice
Run on my track better stay in line
Or you can suck on my sack I won't say it twice
No raps counteracting the fact that the
Count Dracula's back with vernacular
Don't try when the sound of your raps
Like I'm drowning a rat or retracting a catheter,
All my tracks are exact and immaculate
Like I add and subtract em in calculus
Matter fact get the book and board up
F*cken look I'll draw it up, show you pussy boys how to spit
Wound down by the sound now you're out of it
Sound proud but you're loud cause you're counterfeit
Bow down I'll go pound for pound with any clown in this town
But I bet it won't amount to shit
And I was settling it down for the sound to pop
But now I'm heading for the crown in the south of oz
Better get down when I send rounds
I make every one count like a veteran found a Glock
I bend pens with the sentence I'm bout to jot
Like Ben ten but offensive without the watch
I set trends and consensus cause friends are intensive
It ends up expensive like countertops
Once I get tense don't know how to stop
I don't like seshin' with powder rocks
Get sent to defensive again
No offense to my friends but that's why I'm not out a lot
So you don't wanna tip at me when I'm ripping a beat
Your shit I rip to smithereens with a frickin' machine
Give a shit for inner scenes yet I sit in your screen
Dribbling a bit of rhythm in a lyrical scheme
Shit is pitiful you're minimal and fickle to me
So sit still for a minute when I'm ripping a beat
Now my rhythm is disgusting and lyrics are combusting
And bustin the wall down so listen to me
All of these trynabes they wanting some of my business
Honestly, I don't see why they be talking and acting like some of these bitches
Honestly, all I sees wannabe trapping it got me in stitches
Obviously living in poverty, cause if you had it you wouldn't convince us
Writer: George Pepper
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid