Testo Options - Konfidential feat. Prada West
Testo della canzone Options (Konfidential feat. Prada West), tratta dall'album Options
Yeah, pass that shit man
Turnin' up the volume while your drivin' in your whip
Or chillin' with your girl, straight lyin' in your crib
This music runs through me like the blood up in my veins
When I treat you like Deeboo, got you tuckin' in your chain
You really can't see me like your sufferin' from cataracts
I'm callin' out opponents, but you wouldn't wanna answer that
Not talkin' on the telephone, ill tell you what the hell is wrong
These people sleepin' on me like they got to much melatonin
But its time for you to wake up
I tell my life story, while the shit you say is made up
I'm battlin' addiction, got me passin' on presciptions
In the past I've had conflictions, now I'm actin' out my visions
Now imagine my position, were gunnin' for the top
Dont move, dont worry but we comin' for your spot
We got it right, so no need for options
So watch where you step and proceed with caution
Lurkin' in the shadows, when I'm bringin' out the cavalry
There's money on my mind, cause its all about a salary
We walk a fine line when we walkin' on this balance beam
Alotta people steppin' but you wouldnt wanna battle me
I know you think your safe, but were comin' for your spot
We climbin' up the ladder and were comin' for the top
Now your turnin' up the volume cause your lovin' what we got
When you hear it in the speaker and your drums go pop
I got the cavalry, packin' heat, rattle streets the baddest G
Exposin' all these pussies with no heart in their anatomy
(Blah blah) when I'm bustin' like a 45
Hole up in ya bigger than a bitch whose been with 40 guys
Damn, I be kickin' it raw, flippin' a ball
A brick I'm gettin' grip never fall
Cause see it pays to be smart, so I just push my ambition
Spittin' bars to choppin' bricks, I be a cook in the kitchen
Listen, I come with game that make them big mad
HD, I'm movin through these pics and all your shit legs
Big bags, steady takin' home bank roll
Dank up in my blunt, and I ain't fuckin' with you stank hoes
No, cause its all about the paper chase
Player made, you haters pay for pussy while you player hate
Yeah, you know you suckers all be bitch made
Catch a case and they be flippin' quicker then a switchblade
Lurkin' in the shadows, when I'm bringin' out the cavalry
There's money on my mind, cause its all about a salary
We walk a fine line when we walkin' on this balance beam
Alotta people steppin' but you wouldnt wanna battle me
I know you think your safe, but were comin' for your spot
We climbin' up the ladder and were comin' for the top
Now your turnin' up the volume cause your lovin' what we got
When you hear it in the speaker and your drums go pop
Credits
Writer(s): Giovanni Nardi, Tyler Birch
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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