Propane
(专辑: The Course Of The Inevitable - 2021)
Yeah Banks COTI... Hundred dollar bills for sit-up drills, my benji' reps Ignorant, and I
don't give two fucks with Fendi F's Learning by habit, consistency made the
memory stretch Turn you to an addict, your lady will kiss the
Bentley chest Dig your way out the
ground or spend a
century stressed I
get you stomped off some 'ority, shouldn't tempt the
vets Uh, playa haters make my temper flex 20 years of pushing this pen, an instrumental threat Death to haters, can't even be here in spirit Kill a
nigga, set up his GoFundMe and steal it Designer chronic, pockets reeking out the
air vent I
can show you where to buy this shit, can't teach you how to wear it It's a
waste going back and forth, success will really kill 'em Balling like Russell Westbrook, Bill or Wilson Give me rappers, I'ma kill some, mumblers on my jacket Drop the
remains in traffic, club him like I'm barbaric Star addicts Nothing is the
same These niggas don't deserve to rock, run 'em out the
game They love it when we serve the
block, this is cocaine The
temperature is falling and this shit ain't gon' change Nigga drive safely, swerving out of lane The
pain is strong enough to make a
nigga go insane We just want the
money, y'all can have the
fame Promise I'll remain, put it my chain, propane Uh, dumb is justification, is it working, does it keep it fast? Everybody just can't be hating, my nigga you just trash Ass kissers dropping to knees, you need the
Ewing pads I
ain't seen you niggas since teens, still hope you doing bad Country of the
Serpant, y'all all in bed with the
snake Black fitted reads: "When was America great?" In the
bootleg era, left competition dead on a
tape Kryptonite to super save a
hoe, infrared on your cape Shit, I'm lying? Get me amputated, cradled to the
casket, homie Nothing 'bout me animated, I
only use the
cash emoji Everybody make mistakes, let nothing out past control me Married to the
motherfucking game, frozen matrimony Hate when they compare me to niggas, never been even, son Hammer to a
hand grenade, cannon to a
BB-Gun Pussy talking slick about me, who you think was feeding them? I
pull up on you all four quarters, let the
meter run Nothing is the
same These niggas don't deserve to rock, run 'em out the
game They love it when we serve the
block, this is cocaine The
temperature is falling and this shit ain't gon' change Nigga drive safely, swerving out of lane The
pain is strong enough to make a
nigga go insane We just want the
money, y'all can have the
fame Promise I'll remain, put it my chain, propane