Kells
This is a real rappers theme music
Bitch, sing to it
This how you cook up some dope with no powder
Dont turn on that stove, just turn this shit up louder
Black Eddie Bauer, mask on my face
Like Im ready to take what is yours cause its ours
Yall stole my style, I shit on you like bowels
And take all your princesses, bitch, I am Bowser
Fuck superpowers, I got this weed
Gun on my hip, dawg, thats all that I need
I dont play games, man Im not in no league
And I dont drop no names but bitch I am from Cleve-land
D-D-D-Damn, someone tell Britney we did it again
I hear Pooh Gutta acquitted again
And my bank account holding 6 digits again
Pour out some Henn
This for the ones who aint make it
This for the ones who aint make it
Focus your lens, point it at me and see greatness
Point it at me and see greatness
Ray need a Benz, Dub needa all black Mercedes
Tezo need all white, he racist but homie Im sayin
I need a penthouse thats vacant
Arab money Salaam-Alaikum
The beast is awaken, pick up your shotty
My bitch is a murderer, she got a body
She got that brain, summa cum laude
My city the jungle, dont take that Safari
Its lions, its tigers, gangsters, disciples
Lords, Judases, shanks and them rifles
Whores who swear that they live by The Bible
And friends who think they deserve more than entitled
And thats why I…
Up out of the ghetto
Away from the mornings where snow in that shovel
Up out of this level
Im tryna be number one, why would I settle?
Gone to the new world
No Pinta, no Nina, no Santa Maria
Still keep it hood with my peers, sippin Carlos Rossi Sangria
Uh, Drank in my cup
Workin my wrist, I be spankin my slut
Juggle my nuts
Use your two hands while I juggle these fucks
But thats zero, its none
My hands busy holding middle fingers up
I dont do two things: thats love and thats trust
And I dont hate yall, Im just fuckin with us
And thats word to Nipsey
My hustles mean, I can sell bats to Ken Griffey
Im like Lionel Richie, my fans have me touring till 2050
This cycle is evil
This verse is for Tino
One time for my people
And fuck all these fakers
Cant wait till you back on your feet, the streets need you
Up out of the ghetto
Away from the mornings where snow in that shovel
Up out of this level
Im tryna be number one, why would I settle?
Gone to the new world
No Pinta, no Nina, no Santa Maria
Still keep it hood with my peers, sippin Carlos Rossi Sangria