Keep a fresh pair of scissors with me just to cut the right piece of fronto
Death all in my wallet... guess that's why I'm feeling so alive, yo
If I gave it to you, could you manage
We make it happen, f*ck plannin'
I might as well hail a cab, cause, I'm making art that's outstanding
My niggas so outlandish
My girlfriend out back tanning
YES, dark skin, don't panic
For the record: Atlantic
I've been... keeping pace, still crashing
Drinking Ace, still blacking
Eat my dick, f*ck rations
Getting high, it won't distract me
My warning: Don't diss track me, bullets get applied to anatomies
Eyes low like I'm somethingnese
I'm miles into the sunken pleece... wait, sunken place
Fix ya face
Walked in, made it my place, got it my way, I'm rebellious
Besides sex, no yelling (Shh)
My mind back on my money and my money's back on my music
I don't give a f*ck, I just wanna f*ck, this sex is the drug we're abusing
Same friends, new foes... brushing ashes off my clothes
New flows, same 'Tro, off that brew from the corner store
Still sip Joger like a white father
F*ck Budweiser, nigga, why bother?
I'm the man, let us understand, this lifestyle we can't reach by planning
Blunt louder than a crash landing, these niggas known for plane crashes
Best vibe out like a Sage Master, she just nutted imma f*ck her faster
Love good brain like they got a Bachelors, I'm kicking shit like Ken Masters
None of this shit even matters, they don't want artists, they're looking for characters
And that ain't me
She on my dick since "C'est La Vie
Let it "batta-boom" and then "batta bing
Avant-Garde on everything
My mind back on my money and my money's back on my music
I don't give a f*ck, I just wanna f*ck, this sex is the drug we're abusing
Same friends, new foes... brushing ashes off my clothes
New flows, same 'Tro, off that brew from the corner store
Intro Video (MV)
RetroHawki - Intro Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Keep a fresh pair of scissors with me just to cut the right piece of fronto
Death all in my wallet... guess that's why I'm feeling so alive, yo
If I gave it to you, could you manage
We make it happen, f*ck plannin'
I might as well hail a cab, cause, I'm making art that's outstanding
My niggas so outlandish
My girlfriend out back tanning
YES, dark skin, don't panic
For the record: Atlantic
I've been... keeping pace, still crashing
Drinking Ace, still blacking
Eat my dick, f*ck rations
Getting high, it won't distract me
My warning: Don't diss track me, bullets get applied to anatomies
Eyes low like I'm somethingnese
I'm miles into the sunken pleece... wait, sunken place
Fix ya face
Walked in, made it my place, got it my way, I'm rebellious
Besides sex, no yelling (Shh)
My mind back on my money and my money's back on my music
I don't give a f*ck, I just wanna f*ck, this sex is the drug we're abusing
Same friends, new foes... brushing ashes off my clothes
New flows, same 'Tro, off that brew from the corner store
Still sip Joger like a white father
F*ck Budweiser, nigga, why bother?
I'm the man, let us understand, this lifestyle we can't reach by planning
Blunt louder than a crash landing, these niggas known for plane crashes
Best vibe out like a Sage Master, she just nutted imma f*ck her faster
Love good brain like they got a Bachelors, I'm kicking shit like Ken Masters
None of this shit even matters, they don't want artists, they're looking for characters
And that ain't me
She on my dick since "C'est La Vie
Let it "batta-boom" and then "batta bing
Avant-Garde on everything
My mind back on my money and my money's back on my music
I don't give a f*ck, I just wanna f*ck, this sex is the drug we're abusing
Same friends, new foes... brushing ashes off my clothes
New flows, same 'Tro, off that brew from the corner store
Death all in my wallet... guess that's why I'm feeling so alive, yo
If I gave it to you, could you manage
We make it happen, f*ck plannin'
I might as well hail a cab, cause, I'm making art that's outstanding
My niggas so outlandish
My girlfriend out back tanning
YES, dark skin, don't panic
For the record: Atlantic
I've been... keeping pace, still crashing
Drinking Ace, still blacking
Eat my dick, f*ck rations
Getting high, it won't distract me
My warning: Don't diss track me, bullets get applied to anatomies
Eyes low like I'm somethingnese
I'm miles into the sunken pleece... wait, sunken place
Fix ya face
Walked in, made it my place, got it my way, I'm rebellious
Besides sex, no yelling (Shh)
My mind back on my money and my money's back on my music
I don't give a f*ck, I just wanna f*ck, this sex is the drug we're abusing
Same friends, new foes... brushing ashes off my clothes
New flows, same 'Tro, off that brew from the corner store
Still sip Joger like a white father
F*ck Budweiser, nigga, why bother?
I'm the man, let us understand, this lifestyle we can't reach by planning
Blunt louder than a crash landing, these niggas known for plane crashes
Best vibe out like a Sage Master, she just nutted imma f*ck her faster
Love good brain like they got a Bachelors, I'm kicking shit like Ken Masters
None of this shit even matters, they don't want artists, they're looking for characters
And that ain't me
She on my dick since "C'est La Vie
Let it "batta-boom" and then "batta bing
Avant-Garde on everything
My mind back on my money and my money's back on my music
I don't give a f*ck, I just wanna f*ck, this sex is the drug we're abusing
Same friends, new foes... brushing ashes off my clothes
New flows, same 'Tro, off that brew from the corner store
Writer: Jordan Hawkins
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid