Notes To Self - Popular Music lyrics
rate meReal shit, real shit, get it while it's hot
You ain't gotta pay for it, get it when it drops
Get up on your game, you can get it on them blogs
Get up on your Facebook and can get it on your wall
She got that ass shaking, she get it from her mom
Spaghetti ball ye's and the recipe from mom
We getting that pay, yeah we getting that bomb
Scarface in the club, boy I'm getting that blunt
I'mma be where they roll that up
They grow that stuff in Holland, man
I'mma need y'all to hold that blunt
And roll that up for all the fam
For the girl who ride with us, pack with us, taking a shot for us
And probably have a job at the doctor’s office, were it not for us
Even when it's so cold
Shorty get her clothes off, shake it like a snow globe
Shotgun, rolling something, sitting in the gold coast
Dripping in the gold Rolles, twisted like a Rold's Gold
Fuck a rapper, what you tryina say
Sound like every other rapper from around the way
Fuck a rapper, I ain't got the time of day
This is for gat-packers and backpackers
If you wanna front on that shit, I guess you ass backwards
I ask after I shoot, I laugh after your group is done rapping
Dog, I'm after the truth
Proof in living, are you getting what you're giving
I was told you don't need a shotgun to be driven
We going for a ride, knuckle up or buckle up
Stunt, stunt driving, I'm about to double up
Bro still smoking, you can call it double dutch
Got the pot boiling, we about to bobble up
This shit is done, put a fork in it
Oh, we ain’t poping off, put a cork in it
If you're gonna whine, I'm a Cracker Barrel
Want some cheese with that wine, try this Cracker Barrel
People ask me when I’m rapping why I'm cavalier
It's ‘cause I'm moving to Miami in like half a year
Fuck a rapper, what you tryina say
Sound like every other rapper from around the way
Fuck a rapper, I ain't got the time of day
5000 days of thunder
Switching lanes while I cruise in these days of summer
All 500 like my days are numbered
Dazed and confused, word to Jason London, but it's all mine
We down at Utica, locals rolling arugula
Fuck a Philly, got Cubans up in the humidor
I ain't smoking, just suited up like a luchador
I ain't stunting, just naked women and new decor
Now we in Syracuse, shorty wanna share a room
Watching Kira sidewalk, cure herself with a cure of carrot juice
This is real, this is rap, this is televised
This for Preem, this for Dac, this for Malakai
95, I was Mark Ecko
Dropping hard lines, word to Art Deco
In a car rental, 2012 in that car
Hard acrylic orange net, I feel like Carmelo
Fuck a rapper, what you tryina say
Sound like every other rapper from around the way
Fuck a rapper, I ain't got the time of day
