Wonder they all gon mean to me ya
Wonder they all gon see from me ya
Wonder they all gon want and if I'm gon change mother f*cker don't breathe on me
Pulling up feeling I'm important
You pulling up bummy with informants
You the kinda dummy that'll go talking that shit like you rich and get extorted
You the kinda bitch that I'm ignoring
Cuz running up your mouth in the club don't change what you recording
You still same and boring and I'm thinking
Damn I'm getting cozy pull up like I'm hot shit
Fortys drinking bottles till I'm nauseous
Kobe ain't getting boxed out or boxed in
Know me imma different breed give a f*ck about a list
Only VV I'll be rocking is the jeans that I'll be copping for a dollar out my pocket they was made in 96
And ill still gon get it popping Salma Hayek in the ritz
Watchu wanna know like
How I catch a flow right
And how I go and boast on the track just to turn it back around and start hating on my own life
Baby but the crude and simple fact is
That I could lift my spirits with some practice
I got a couple simple steps I done went and mapped it
Step one stop lifting spirits to my lips till I'm blacked out spilling out my guts on this dirty f*cking mattress
Step two cut off all these leeches I'm attracting
Impeding on my actions
Leave em in the past tense
Three let these f*ckers know that they never gon be me
Aint about the flow or how I'm murdering the beat
But simply how I go and maneuver through the street
And pull up hunnid deep have us looking like a fleet
And I grab a microphone have them jumping off their feet
Something shifting when I speak have em thinking for a week
STOP
You could pull that bullshit out your closet
Talking all that talk but you aint walked it
Here I go again like Jacky stop it
Sick to my stomach
Blissfully running to a ditch and I wonder
If I'm rich will it fix all the pins and needles that be digging in my skull and
Now I'm back
F*ck round with me ya you tough up on the track
I just want a beat I don't care bout getting racks
You don't need no beef don't be doing nothing whack
I'm just Laying out the facts I want Lily James yelling out jack throwing back and showing ass
We getting cozy pull up like I'm hot shit
Fortys drinking bottles till I'm nauseous
Kobe ain't getting boxed out or boxed in
Know me imma different breed give a f*ck about a list
Only VV I'll be rocking is the jeans that I'll be copping for a dollar out my pocket they was made in 96
And ill still gon get it popping Salma Hayek in the ritz
Lowe-Fi - room 237 Lyrics
Lowe-Fi - room 237 Lyrics
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English
Wonder they all gon mean to me ya
Wonder they all gon see from me ya
Wonder they all gon want and if I'm gon change mother f*cker don't breathe on me
Pulling up feeling I'm important
You pulling up bummy with informants
You the kinda dummy that'll go talking that shit like you rich and get extorted
You the kinda bitch that I'm ignoring
Cuz running up your mouth in the club don't change what you recording
You still same and boring and I'm thinking
Damn I'm getting cozy pull up like I'm hot shit
Fortys drinking bottles till I'm nauseous
Kobe ain't getting boxed out or boxed in
Know me imma different breed give a f*ck about a list
Only VV I'll be rocking is the jeans that I'll be copping for a dollar out my pocket they was made in 96
And ill still gon get it popping Salma Hayek in the ritz
Watchu wanna know like
How I catch a flow right
And how I go and boast on the track just to turn it back around and start hating on my own life
Baby but the crude and simple fact is
That I could lift my spirits with some practice
I got a couple simple steps I done went and mapped it
Step one stop lifting spirits to my lips till I'm blacked out spilling out my guts on this dirty f*cking mattress
Step two cut off all these leeches I'm attracting
Impeding on my actions
Leave em in the past tense
Three let these f*ckers know that they never gon be me
Aint about the flow or how I'm murdering the beat
But simply how I go and maneuver through the street
And pull up hunnid deep have us looking like a fleet
And I grab a microphone have them jumping off their feet
Something shifting when I speak have em thinking for a week
STOP
You could pull that bullshit out your closet
Talking all that talk but you aint walked it
Here I go again like Jacky stop it
Sick to my stomach
Blissfully running to a ditch and I wonder
If I'm rich will it fix all the pins and needles that be digging in my skull and
Now I'm back
F*ck round with me ya you tough up on the track
I just want a beat I don't care bout getting racks
You don't need no beef don't be doing nothing whack
I'm just Laying out the facts I want Lily James yelling out jack throwing back and showing ass
We getting cozy pull up like I'm hot shit
Fortys drinking bottles till I'm nauseous
Kobe ain't getting boxed out or boxed in
Know me imma different breed give a f*ck about a list
Only VV I'll be rocking is the jeans that I'll be copping for a dollar out my pocket they was made in 96
And ill still gon get it popping Salma Hayek in the ritz
Wonder they all gon see from me ya
Wonder they all gon want and if I'm gon change mother f*cker don't breathe on me
Pulling up feeling I'm important
You pulling up bummy with informants
You the kinda dummy that'll go talking that shit like you rich and get extorted
You the kinda bitch that I'm ignoring
Cuz running up your mouth in the club don't change what you recording
You still same and boring and I'm thinking
Damn I'm getting cozy pull up like I'm hot shit
Fortys drinking bottles till I'm nauseous
Kobe ain't getting boxed out or boxed in
Know me imma different breed give a f*ck about a list
Only VV I'll be rocking is the jeans that I'll be copping for a dollar out my pocket they was made in 96
And ill still gon get it popping Salma Hayek in the ritz
Watchu wanna know like
How I catch a flow right
And how I go and boast on the track just to turn it back around and start hating on my own life
Baby but the crude and simple fact is
That I could lift my spirits with some practice
I got a couple simple steps I done went and mapped it
Step one stop lifting spirits to my lips till I'm blacked out spilling out my guts on this dirty f*cking mattress
Step two cut off all these leeches I'm attracting
Impeding on my actions
Leave em in the past tense
Three let these f*ckers know that they never gon be me
Aint about the flow or how I'm murdering the beat
But simply how I go and maneuver through the street
And pull up hunnid deep have us looking like a fleet
And I grab a microphone have them jumping off their feet
Something shifting when I speak have em thinking for a week
STOP
You could pull that bullshit out your closet
Talking all that talk but you aint walked it
Here I go again like Jacky stop it
Sick to my stomach
Blissfully running to a ditch and I wonder
If I'm rich will it fix all the pins and needles that be digging in my skull and
Now I'm back
F*ck round with me ya you tough up on the track
I just want a beat I don't care bout getting racks
You don't need no beef don't be doing nothing whack
I'm just Laying out the facts I want Lily James yelling out jack throwing back and showing ass
We getting cozy pull up like I'm hot shit
Fortys drinking bottles till I'm nauseous
Kobe ain't getting boxed out or boxed in
Know me imma different breed give a f*ck about a list
Only VV I'll be rocking is the jeans that I'll be copping for a dollar out my pocket they was made in 96
And ill still gon get it popping Salma Hayek in the ritz
Writer: Jack Lowe-Carbell
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid