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COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Wilbert T Robinson
Wilbert T Robinson
Songwriter

Lyrics

Been hustling like we standing on them street corners No competition snuff em out Go get a coroner No time for waisting man Cake ya gotta get it man Stack it to the ceiling fan And stay up out ya feelings man Im back again And on into my next hit Flow very scary You better get the exorcist A hell of buzz like ecstasy Or try some extra keys On top im the epiphany ya follow me Now everybody say the dude hot And with the guap Just tryna stretch it like some tube socks We talking knots Homie call me the champ now And stomping on camp grounds Back out and taking that spot now Them foes getting rid of em Extra shots of adrenaline Chick bagged winging it More time when ya winging shit Winning it Now if you aint listening Hot new shipment in Another pot get shitting in im that sick yeah Could care less bout some my old boys Left me out to dry And you supposed to be my home boy Kill that noise Done dealing with fake fucks Fixing they face hearing this Leave em taped up it's that real Suckers you ain't heard the half of me Leave with casualties So you better bring a faculty Equipped for mopping this shit up Tools apply it like niptuck And ya chick gutted Housing this big truck Big dick and man the flow is just too hard Plus in charge Checks cut em like a coupon Been getting it What type of time you on Better move along Burn this bitch down quick With the microphone Been hustling like we standing on them street corners No competition snuff em out Go get a coroner No time for waisting man Cake ya gotta get it man Stack it to the ceiling fan And stay up out ya feelings man If it aint about the paper You a looser man RIP to kobe that's a legend Im a hooper man My eyes focused on the tip top And the prize the bigger rock So hard the raw push it on ya block Said im the man Got the game on dead bolts Simply dead wrong Pick em off and watch they heads rolls Want the cash So get my sessions in Flow cartel hired shit hotter than a mexican Been this sick head alpha Ain't no question here Best so get it clear Kicks this something like a special pair So at ease Work ya push it till ya feet bleed Only keys you see The shit up on your tv But fuck it all See i had to leave that life alone Pissed when you aint home Shitter next to what you sleeping on In a cell leaving you lonely Hope for love mail A thugs tail My life pitch it like drug sale Streets leave it And I'm spitting cuz the game needs it All these fake fucks Good riddings and I aint leaving Standing tall like the post man Check the coast is clear Winter time ima polar bear yall freezing Below average ya shit And man this verse a classic Tell 'em welcome to the movement So get ya passes Check im feeling myself Boy I'm the jump man On flight get to the cash Doing the running man Ya girl feeling me maybe Now she calling me baby Quite frankly Them heels on ankles make me Wanna jump in im sinked in Uncover her swim gear In her fish pool Pubes by the fist full Been hustling like we standing on them street corners No competition snuff em out Go get a coroner No time for waisting man Cake ya gotta get it man Stack it to the ceiling fan And stay up out ya feelings man If it aint about the paper You a looser man RIP to kobe that's a legend Im a hooper man My eyes focused on the tip top And the prize the bigger rock So hard the raw push it on ya block
Writer(s): Wilbert Robinson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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