Just Me And My Vocals
(专辑: Ok Cool (Pre-Album 2.0) - 2012)
I
fucked 'er (she say) I
fucked 'er (she say) Boston to NY Sammy Born in '87, a
leo sent from heaven Had a
feeling since 11, it started, was fucking destined I
run by paparazzi and these stairs are so irreverent But they'll hate me when they see me on TV, Johnny Depping Flash to more flashes, shattered from all the
glasses Jacking coke in a
mixture of what's ever in his baggie Shouts to Ruby Rivera, blocking me from the
cameras Opening doors for me faster than a
Porsche Carrera I
swear that's on my life man, now me and Johnny Siteman My boss is straight gold, I
don't even need a
hype man Alright then, we good now Got a
air roof, with my best friends My team sick, we don't need shit We wavy while you seasick It's crazy, why so serious? People love me and they fear me, bitch You stare and drinking cranberry What the
fuck you on your period? Bring more, we got that Miley Cyrus, we on swag They lick once, then fuck twice The
butch rained in a
dollar cab No allowance, we gon wait I'm a
boss just like I
sip A
You dropping that ass a
free tape She could charge with MP3 rates I
know me, I'm just me Sometimes we do act a
team Went from stealing with Benny to living out my fucking dreams Think before you move your lips That right there could sink the
ships We ain't got no filter, taking turns, watch us sink your bitch Truth pushing that Bogota You ruled, your reign is over dawg Private flights to Cote d'Ivoire Rock star, no guitar Them lights on, Lou Vuitton Again, just me and my vocals Answer to our platoon With my fellaz Just me and my vocals, with all this weed and all my Gs But I
ain't a
fucking local Did you think I
was who these people going fucking loco Got a
euro, chick is so ho I
walk around on Broadway, everybody taking photos Got a
Swedish chick that don't speak English But I
beat it like raining Randy Coga Talking shit about the
kid? See to go ahead cuz we got ears yo Whole album is solo, illmatic that motto I
mean Motto, press that button and follow that's how we want y'all Stacking up these numbers, bitches making me tumblers Like “fuck yea, that's Sammy Adams” King of soundtracks of my summer Got B
major, got super dukes I
got skateboards, it's a
super truth No state cops, we hit cops Do it oldschool in this super loop Call this Sammypalooza You heard, you just look like losers I've been at this 3
years 3
years, yea that's the
truth bruh You co-signing, just gotta sign You rock hotels and I
stay Vermont You number 2
slash number 10 I
went number 1
on my first try Dover Sammy so used now Got a
ill crew that you not in Pack chicks off like I'm stocked in I'm on the
rebound like Rodman Me and Gucci so Gucci NYC the
same Louie I
blew off across the
radio after Antilantic sue me bitch 2
fucks, I
got you man Live for me and my old fans Got 2
girls, take over then open a
private spot dance Try to bring next to our X
back Fuck Cannon, fuck Kurt We had it luck, Joe got sucked Overall, bad luck What DJ gon play since then? Got 'em all, no lies here Time gon tell like an automat Give me 2
months and I'm outta here What? What? Give me 2
months and I'm outta here Yea