Lyrics Mick Jenkins – A Layover
Text:
Yeah
Find a plug we in town for the night
5 am flight, despite
We make them bring an ounce
‘Cause the flower tend to bring the noise
Silver spoon, I don’t need no clout
I just let that nigga hit the joint
Took my last drag, you can have it back
*cough*
Hop in the Uber, I’m in customs in 30
They held me back, I had a water in my bag, its just a habit, brah
Won’t you let me through this motherfucka
5 flights this week, I do this motherfucka
First class, got ’em looking like, «Who this motherfucka?»
I lightly say drummer before rapper
I like to say writer before both
They won’t give me my respect
Its more smoke they request
It must be
Covertly concealed and stuffed deep
Pack in my napshack, she think I»m musty
Told my girl, she think I’m lucky
I’m overseas in alternative traps
While these niggas quote alternative facts
I rarely watch the news
Still watching niggas like a fucking hawk
They judging my steps they don’t know my walk
Hopscotch ain’t the only chalk we seen on South Side pavements
Outline resemble Keith Haring’s imagination
The driver hit me with the «enchante»
I think he know we eating good like them small ass plates
If it sound like hate, don’t bring it my way
We 7 hours ahead, nigga all y’all late
How you have the mask on nigga all y’all fake
The driver hit me with the «enchante»
I think he know we eating good like them small ass plates
If it sound like hate, don’t bring it my way
We 7 hours ahead, nigga all y’all late
We 7 hours ahead, nigga all y’all late
