Текст Don Trip – Godspeed
Текст:
And the whole world loves it when you sing the blues
Da da da da da daaa da
I’m still on my job
I got work to do until my ma can quit her job
Maybe I won’t let her starve
R.I.P. to the paper, turn back round and rob Paul
All I have in this world is my word and my balls
At the moment both my balls getting borrowed by your broad
Fully loaded pistol with my back against the wall
If its me against the world, then I plan to take em all
You lil niggas too soft, cotton balls
I ball Cotton Bowl
Talk cash shit
That’s all I know
Spit game so sick I might stop your nose
Hi, I’m fly with a flock of hoes
Let a bitch ride me she lost control
Its been 14 months since I shitted on niggas so pardon me while I drop a load
These lil rappers got way too comfortable
Boy you’re sweeter than Jaylen’s jungle juice
Hit your block with all these drums
Your neighbors will think a parade was coming through
Call your bitch like «Bae I’m coming through»
She’s like «Oh okay, I’m waitin boo»
I’m so sorry if you think I’m savin you
Your chances are shorter than Daisy’s daisy dukes
I’m too great to lose
So fly, I just flew the coop
Gray hair, yes I’m getting old
Who gon stop me?
I’m still waitin for a candidate
All these busters swear they riders until they ridin in an ambulance
I’m more wealthy than I ever been
Success is sweeter than gelatin
I’m bout it bout it
And all my closets got choppers inside them not skeletons
I stick to the money like its magnetic
I’m savin my heart for Ms. Halle Berry
I live life faster than Kyle Petty
Your money’s funny, Malcolm and Eddie
Make you disappear, Malcolm the edit
Fresh out the jungle, Serengeti
May God look after the unlucky bastard who left with the hassle to come and get me
Me so arrogant
Me no give no fuck
Pop quiz, who the shit?
Alright pencils up
Where my competition?
Oh I wish em luck
Cause I don’t give a shit
And I’m not giving in
And I’m not giving up
Rob the game blind
Alright stick em up
Fuck your feelings until I get a nut
All this money still I can’t get enough
Count so slow shawty I’m not in a rush
I’m still on my job
I got work to do until my ma can quit her job
Put it all on me
Maybe I won’t let her starve
R.I.P. to the paper, turn back round and rob Paul
All I have in this world is my word and my balls
At the moment both my balls getting borrowed by your broad
Fully loaded pistol with my back against the wall
If its me against the world, then I plan to take em all