Lyrics King Los – Top Let Back
Text:
Ay
We’re still on the G5, baby
We’re riding smooth
Don’t Get it fucked up
Next stop:
B-more!
Bad Boy, the block, your boy Los
Check it out
(Let’s do it)
B-more!
Bad Boy, the block, your boy Los
Check it out
(Let’s do it)
Ay
I’ve got my o’s fitted low
Got my white tee fresh
My Caprice hangs way down
To my Nike checks
I’ve got money on my mind
Big pimping in my veins
If I was leaning any harder
I’d be limping with a cane
Rocking ?
on them bitches
Aviating on them digits
Niggas ain’t believable, they’re like Flavor and Deelishis
I’ve got flavor, it’s delicious
I’ve got different flavored bitches
That got different flavored bitches
That whip different flavored Benzes
I’m a cocky lil’ bastard
And these bitches ?
Got the flow mastered
Rappers picking cotton
Cotton picking rappers
Keep on try to flip me backwards
Till I pop and clip that ‘matic
At your top and hit your attic
Knock your attic in the basement
When I pop the ‘mat and blaze it
And leave you slumped over like an addict in the basement
I’m trynna’ get a full court added to my basement
And take a vacation
The same place ?
went
Had it with this fake shit
They acting like bitchat-ches
I guess it’s just me, I just
Gotta keep my V topless
Old school with them ?
Flow so sick I need doctors
Swagger jackers hold me hostage
Nigga please give me my dick
Back to the future, you can quote this and borrow
I’m so ahead of rappers that I wrote this tomorrow
I’m a motherfucking mountain, you’re a anthill
Your whole body couldn’t get one leg of my pants filled
I’m the headache they couldn’t solve with aleve
You ain’t balling with a broke ankle, you’re Grant Hill
I do this at will
Call me young stack skrill
All my raps ill
Like Nash’ where they ?
And that’s real
I kill these kids if they glance
Now they’re ’bout to meet defeat
Like the kid ‘n play dance
(Haha-haha-ha)
I know I keep you thinking
That was the dance where your feet were meeting
I’m out this bitch
G5!
Keep on try to flip me backwards
Till I pop and clip that ‘matic
At your top and hit your attic
Knock your attic in the basement
When I pop the ‘mat and blaze it
And leave you slumped over like an addict in the basement
I’m trynna’ get a full court added to my basement
And take a vacation
The same place ?
went
Had it with this fake shit
They acting like bitchat-ches
I guess it’s just me, I just
Gotta keep my V topless
Old school with them ?
Flow so sick I need doctors
Swagger jackers hold me hostage
Nigga please give me my dick
Back to the future, you can quote this and borrow
I’m so ahead of rappers that I wrote this tomorrow
I’m a motherfucking mountain, you’re a anthill
Your whole body couldn’t get one leg of my pants filled
I’m the headache they couldn’t solve with aleve
You ain’t balling with a broke ankle, you’re Grant Hill
I do this at will
Call me young stack skrill
All my raps ill
Like Nash’ where they ?
And that’s real
I kill these kids if they glance
Now they’re ’bout to meet defeat
Like the kid ‘n play dance
(Haha-haha-ha)
I know I keep you thinking
That was the dance where your feet were meeting
I’m out this bitch
G5!