Songtexte DAVEY BOY SMITH - Westside Gunn

Grrt
Ayo, fuck these niggas, lord
Can't have shit, man
Everybody wanna fuckin' be FLYGOD
You know niggas seein' y'all niggas stealin' my shit, you know, right? (The most gorgeous)
Niggas, y'all niggas can't keep fuckin' getting by with this shit no more, nigga (I'm tellin you fuck niggas)
You niggas is fuckin' bums (FLYGOD)
Ayo

The stakes high on my Wade 5s, .9 in the Balmain waistline
My plug got me droolin' showin' bricks on FaceTime (whoo)
Peace to all my niggas doin' fed and state time (whoo)
Where the paperwork? I ain't no, "Heard through the grapevine" (uh-huh)
Porterhouse steak well-done with some steak fries (mm)
Poochie pull over in the red flyin' saucer (skrrt)
Crack bags scatterd on the saucer
Fiend came back, she sold the baby at a auction (ah)
Wore my conehead backwards with a revolver (boom-boom-boom-boom)

Every day, I miss Big Dump, wish I could bawl 'em
Threw the Teslas out, fiend's knees bloody from crawlin'
Pay attention, young man, your mind's fallin' (ah)
Up in Saks two hours after they closed
Dominican bitches titties out, baggin' up the reggaeton (banjo!)

All headshots, nigga (boom-boom-boom) (all headshots, nigga)
Ayo

Force suspenders crisscross, Mack Daddy or Daddy Mac (brrt, brrt)
Scream, "Go door to door" in the bulletproof Cadillac (skrrt)
East side Buffalo CP action pack (doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot, phew-phew-phew)
Niggas tryna dethrone the king, imagine that (phew-phew-phew, fuck these niggas, lord)
Imagine no guns, no drugs in our habitat (whoo)
Johnny hit a stem, looked at me, and did the Cabbage Patch, whoa

I got the best work, nigga (phew-phew-phew-phew-phew-phew-phew, phew-phew-phew)
Fourth Rope takin' over the motherfuckin' world, nigga
Who else could make a motherfuckin' tape in a night, nigga?
It's already Wednesday, nigga, this shit come out tomorrow midnight, nigga
This shit gon' come out tomorrow night, nigga
Yo' favorite rapper ain't dropped shit in how long?

You know, I don't even like to rap, that's the thing about it
I'm not a fuckin' rapper
See, y'all like rappers
I'm a artiste
I'm a specialist, nigga
I'm a culture curator, nigga
I'm 'bout to take it back when posters was on the wall
So I can make sure your bitch got me on the wall
Make sure your kids got me on they wall, nigga
FLYGOD