Текст песни Damn - SotoKnows

(Like damn)
Like damn
Soto back in the mix, they like damn
See me stacking my chips, they like damn
Getting shade from a fan, I'm like damn
Oh she ain't mention a man, I'm like damn
Soto back in the mix, they like damn
See me stacking my chips, they like damn
Getting shade from a fan, I'm like damn
Oh she ain't mention a man, I'm like damn

My apologies
All I did was look
Got her freaky talking sodomy
Thinking I'm a ticket, trying to come up off the lottery
Pardon me
Got her goin dumb, no lobotomy
Matter fact brainless
Making panties drop like a mother fucker famous
Clearly ima pop
Name ringing like a stainless
Put 'em out they misery, Saint Luis Rams
No competition when it come to the pen

I'm like damn
Soto back in the mix, they like damn
See me stacking my chips, they like damn
Getting shade from a fan, I'm like damn
Oh she ain't mention a man, I'm like damn

Pulling these strings like loose tooth
Shit I feel like number Three
Ouu!
Soto Babe Ruth
Shooting for the stars
Need me that grey coupe
Want to race them in Wraith
So I'm headed to the Stu
Heavy on the bars, call it a bench press
I been next
Just playing chess, put em in check
Two steps ahead, smarter never harder
Unless I'm in the bed, that's a different kind of order
Been around the block, in and out a couple daughters
Man Soto know a lot
She remember what I taught her
Replace for a pencil
Colder then Minnesota
Now I slaughter instrumentals like I'm working toward a quota
Stacks, need em
Snakes, weed em
Don't got a bone to pick with the hoes
I just leave em
And she don't want to be another reason that I'm snapping on the beat
Cause clearly I'm a lyrical demon
Like damn!
Remember they was shook about the plan
Then I real started cooking, now they looking for a pan
Like damn!
Time to saran wrap
These bland ass, acting mother fuckers who can't snap
Been in the lab like Dexter
Time to put on a show
The car tuned, now I'm ready to go
This the end of the road for all you lame ass trifling hoes
I can't stand that
Couldn't catch a flow with a Tampax
Verbally strapped, lyrical assassin
This ain't even half my bag, I'm just yapping
Fire on demand, I feel like Aroldis Chapman
Heat it up, then I shut down, closed casket