Su Da Boss - FORENSICS feat. J.R. Writer & Charlie Clips lyrics

rate me

Look, you know why you ain’t heard a while flex

Cause you home worried bout who getting verified next

Verified who? Nigga I’m a certified thread

Fuck verify, I’m worried bout a certified check

Check, I got great bars, you can ask your main broad

I get the top, she clean me off, brainwash

Magazines I get issue for free,

Make you read them all, said they got an issue with me

With me? I dare do, he shouldn’t even wear true

Put his box under a tree, he’ll be square root

True, I got the title in flaming the bars

Last time, you had a title that came with a call

Last time, you had a lime and it came in a jar

You must have really lost your mind thinking you can tangle with all

I’m your booby favorite, come salute the greatest

Before I pillowphone you haters and the nudist ladies

I’m a boss hoe, with a boss hoe

The type of bitch you wanna take to the award show

Fly, y’all should know how I ride

Mommy all on my side, cause y’all be blowing my high

Coke wars taught me bout a razor blade

Giving extra credits to my workers, that’s the way to shave

Hit your head with a bottle, a ace of spade

Cause 40 a gangsta, my nigga ace to spade

And su da boss riding in that hummer thing

Used to be faithful to my bitch until your mother came

Oh you mad, I’ve seen my jeweler for another chain

I’m rocky, that’s why the dealer box me

Club a lane, ha, Porsche box, oh you don’t get it scrap

Red dot, bigger than the one that’s on the twister mat

Like a popeye’s work I bring them biscuit back

I’m a computer freak, for pc I gribble mac

Fuck a battlerap, let’s just go clip for clack

Cause either way, I spit it 16, and it’s a rap

And you gonna sleep forever, thinking it’s a nap

We the best, fuck an opinion nigga, it’s a fact

Try to murder with these clips when I blast off

Bad boss, come through with that yappa like a hacksaw

You whack whore, pass off, scream queen, lasso

Machine gun Kelly, bitches jelly, I’m a bad boy

Wow boy, you a tow boy, whip on alloys

More horses than a cowboy

Spock got more bud than a rose garden

Got these bitches stressed nigga, post partum

You a clown nigga, miss me with that circus show

For certain though, shoot you through your window

Got that current flow, theroflow, personal

Got these bitches twerking oh

Tell her that her ass a yes, I bang bang personal

Outlaw, different ways to box them like a sough pole

Smoking like that mary jane, indoor, outdoor

In it for that mugger boy, the mug is what I’m out for

Get peeled for them pulls, go oxymoron when that drought on

Birds up in the closet, that’s my chicken coop

Dezzy birds, hollow make them hollow man invisible

Everyday my money reappearing, it’s the richable

Kill these red souls nigga, don move spiritual

My finger’s on that disky, I’m getting to that chicken

I’m cooking in my kitchen, my lieutenant on that mission

Said this chicken got the biscuit, I pluck her in the kitchen

I fuck her missionary, colonel sanders, niggas get it

I’m a boss