Lyrics Don Q – Karma
Text:
Karma is a bitch and we still fuck it
I just took a pink pill and I don’t feel nothin’
I hear niggas name droppin’ but they still duckin’, better hit the chill button
Nah, for real, youngin’, I send hitters in the field hunt
Play that city with my blicky and about twenty-two Gs on me
Ds on me like I’m ridin’ ’round with twenty-two keys on me
Gotta watch my moves when I’m in the post like I got Kennith Faried on me
Let’s go hit a lick, go right
Let’s pour some sip of right
I don’t like my shit on ice
Tryna snipe that bitch on site
Go get a sponsor, we that ones that made the fuckin’ city bonkers
Nigga, meet us at the top and then we’ll see who really climbin’
In the Lamb’, I race it like a Tonka
Candy paint it, Willy Wonka
Who grew the weed? I’m tryna have a conversation with a farmer
Like, who believe you lil’ dirty niggas make it any farther?
Like, true indeed, I do you dirty if you take it any farther, nigga
Don’t jump in grown folks business, how the fuck you get involved?
Life was easy with this
?
before they had to
?
Cops tryna find prints, tell ’em niggas kiss a frog
My Glock 9 is immature, on God, I feel appalled
Fuck the sugar coatin’, I’m in BK fully loaded
Tryna leave this nigga twirlin’ if he pop out any moment
Yo’ boss got you shootin’ vids in the buildin’ lookin’ homeless
Shook opponent, rob him when his album drop, that’s good promotion
And his watch snatched, go to TMZ to blog that
I got Carfax, we paradin’ where they march at
Go spin the block, go get the watch before you try to respond back
The motherfuckin’ irony, these niggas tryin’ me, this ain’t a rivalry
When niggas out of line, though, we know it’s reactin’ violently
Stay out the way and off the phone, my lawyer keep advisin’ me
Come out to play, you all alone, don’t hide from me, lil’ nigga
For real
For real
I’m the reason that you niggas lit
I deserve a finder’s fee
Pay homage without me, you’ll be minor league, for real
(Bitch, Don)