Ain’t fazin J, sedated & trippy sipping crazy taking days away
Sprites a wavy shade, if it gets any darker I’ma mistake it for Grape Gatorade
My shotty’s riding shotty, but it’s not my shawty its the pump
Main bitch smokin skunk in the back while spittin raps & doin bumps
The strap don’t touch my money, barrel’s hot & burning thru
An hour in, I’ve counted so many New Hundo’s that my hands are turning Blue
Sometimes she call me papi, JD’s a monster but not her father
Black silhouette, you can tell I’m a mobster jus by my posture
Should be in Iraq w/ the straps, u don't get time to call ppl
All lethal - Pistol w/ the serial scratched, that's a Bald Eagle
I stand up for the squad, we w/ the static like bad channels
U’ll catch me ‘boxin w/ some blood’ like I was packagin lab samples
Clip long as a Pan Handle, y’all kno the FL is where I stay
Double cup w/ so much mud it’s like I’m sippin the Everglades
Not w/ goofy shit & for my time its like a bidding war
Known to keep it low-key... Thor poster on a midgets door
White tee w/ bright chains, ya wifey in a nice Range, I light flames & it’s over
We’re not on Mars, but she on another planet smoking hybrid strains in the Rover
Now I’m zonin’ out at a homies house & fell asleep w/ a 40 ounce
At younger ages the floor was lava but I jus straight up melted into shortys couch
Last edited by John Dillinger; 10-12-2018 at 01:20 PM.
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