Testo Predicate - Youngs Teflon feat. Tiny Boost & K-Trap
Testo della canzone Predicate (Youngs Teflon feat. Tiny Boost & K-Trap), tratta dall'album Predicate
X10
Yo
Niggas gettin' blazed then start prayin' they get saved
Layin' on the ground, thinkin' why they play this game
When it's too late
Family dealin' with some new pain
Now life ain't feelin' too great
I hit the floor five times
Still why I wanna click the fours five times
More drive-bys
Or don't I?
Really, I'm a trap boy, I come up off a dope line
Co-hostin' the T, I got the cosign
Now we rappin' bars
Different from the late nights when I was rappin' hard
Blowin' in that dinger, hopin' we don't wrap the car
Now I can wrap the car
Nowadays, I put it on a card, that's a start
'Cause I can shut my eyes, tell you just how it was
And when it came fresh out the box
Can you smell me?
They had to mail me
Now the only mails from my bookings are LV
New collection
Copped three, that's a new selection
He got retired with the buy-in, didn't need a pension
Every time I exercise, I feel I need redemption
Or repentance
But I buy another pendant, lookin' through these Louis lenses
Niggas didn't care, now they're too intensive
I seen it so clear, it's only you pretendin'
And when I speak the real, don't care who's offended
When Trap was in the kitchen on his last whip
I was sittin' in prison on my last bid
Came home to the booth, couple quid and a half brick
Linked Tef and grew a sharp fin
See the clips like bananas and plantains
Make man shower down the strip like bad man from garden
Came up off lines on paper, no margin
Shoppin' out East Street Market, but look at me now
Matter of fact, you could Google me and look at my file
See the streets when I look down the aisle
Sometimes it gets real, you gotta whoosh at the crowd
Bare face and pray the witness ain't lookin' around
Gang, I made it out the belly of this shit
On my soul, I didn't think that we could ever get this rich
Till my brudda came through, plain sky, dwelly on his wrist
Let's be serious, you ain't know that there's levels to this shit?
It's real
Uh, they got my niggas in the bin doin' lockdown
While my other niggas on the road tryna lock down the city
All about the quid, if it's money, then I want it in a jiffy
I sip the tonic wine till I'm pissy
Before the Queen died, we was gettin' live Lizzy
Ski mask 'way like Skizzy
These niggas ain't rappin' like Jimmy
Tell 'em wrap it up like a jimmy
I really wish that I could rap like Akala
Instead, I'm 'round the straps and the drama
Aks and the Kalas
Ballers gettin' yacked for their danas
Weed plants all up in the flats and we ain't farmers
This the positive and negative
Thoughts of a predicate
Gotta watch the trigger cah it's delicate
This the same spinners Bob shot the sheriff with
If I ever send you coin, it's repetitive
Credits
Writer(s): Harry Charles Gough, Devonte Kasi Perkins Martin, Frederick Arthur Poole, Olujimi Oladipupo Alao Aseru, Daniel Lee Collins, Roddy James Woods Mcauley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Disclaimer:
i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare
direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia
un artista o
un publisher.