Testo Phil Jackson - Tae Retro feat. BabyTron & StanWill
Testo della canzone Phil Jackson (Tae Retro feat. BabyTron & StanWill), tratta dall'album The Main Protagonist
(E-E-Enrgy made this one)
Alright, look
When it comes to spice talkin', I'm very fluent
Ain't no middle ground for them boys, we are not congruent
Me and you are not the same, there is no confusion
I can put your girl onto game, she my favorite student
Niggas out here cappin' on they flags like Domination
I could show you how to get the bag with no hesitation
Seen me once, said I was the G.O.A.T., great observation
Whole gang perfect, never miss, we got great spacin'
I done set the trend for all these niggas, need recognition
I done set the wave, I'm on track like expedition
I'm the leading scorer of the league, no competition
Nowadays, I'm good with the numbers like long division
And I'm posted with the same guys
Niggas cappin', really out here livin' same lies
He tried to slide, he didn't think, that's some brave guys
I'm tryna get it, I don't care if we on the same time
Never let 'em waste mines
I could put up numbers and drop, but I'd rather assist
You could check my field goal stats, I ain't planning to miss
All black Tech, got 'em thinkin' that Retro a Sith
In the rap game, he burnt out, so he needin' a hit
Phil Jackson when I'm in that-, alright, hold on bro
Phil Jackson when I'm in that mode, I be coachin' the game
World champ, when it comes to rap, I have multiple reigns
I can snap whenver in the booth, I ain't lyrically sane
1400 in my pop, I need my ass beat (shit)
They only shootin' in the air, is this a track meet?
I don't go to bed, bitch, think about it, do the bag sleep?
Made what you made last year in the past week
MPX put him in a suit, he a fancy man
Unky in the kitchen, whip it up like my granny can
He'll cook you up some quick shit, not no candy yams
Hit the space Runtz, I'm flyin' up, like I'm Jango Fett
Three, five of shit, fuck, damn, this'll take yo' breath
We gon' bang yo' head if you an opp, and you bang yo' set
On the right path to the M's, I can't take no left
Said he got a sealed pint, give that shit to Faygo Test
Akhi and habibi on your head, better lay low, neph'
Good VPN, hell nah, they can't trace no steps
ShittyBoyz and Tae Retro next, come and place yo' bets
Talking all this big money shit, but you ain't make no check
Water fit, water got yo' bitch tryna dive on it
Back to back in Scat Packs, pull up lookin' like a hive on it
We'll shut his motherfuckin' block down if we slide on it
Ain't it funny how I'm thinkin' with my dick? She put her mind on it
Mike Amiri, Ksubi, shit, I rock fancy pants
All this motherfuckin' dog shit got my fanny crammed
I'd drill his ass with the hammer, I'm a handyman
Multicolor diamonds, new chain look like Candyland
Bro shoot that bitch from long range, like he hoop still
'Vette with the missing roof when I make the coupe squeal
Triple S's on, but it give a bitch the boot still
Five hunnid dollar brunch, all I bought was two meals
Touchdown in L.A., feel like Matt Stafford
He keep rappin' 'bout them pounds, he a cap trapper
Once I get the neck up off you, we can't chat after
Buddy thinkin' we gon' knuckle up, boy, we don't lack, scrapper
Fuck is you talkin' 'bout?
Credits
Writer(s): James Johnson Iv
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