Текст Young M.A – Crime Poetry (outro)
Текст:
Oh, this what we doing?
Aight, aight bet
I gotta get a little cocky on this one, man
I gotta get a little bocky on this one, y’heard?
Holy fucking moly, I’m a superstar
I drive super cars
I fuck the smartest women
I fuck stupid broads
They know who I is
They know who I are
Fill this cup up like a battery and now I’m supercharged
Fill this blunt up, take off like a rocket
I see super stars
Moon and mars
Put a message on a bullet
Now they know who my shooters are
Covered up in these tattoos because we can’t remove the scars
Turn myself into a boss
A CEO, I’m who in charge
In love with the game
Cupid shot me through the heart
Had to break up with fame
Because it broke my mood apart
Man, I chase them checks so much I nearly tore my shoes apart
I’m not a rapper, I’m an artist
Bitch, do not confuse the art, no
Just let that sink in
I’ma let that sink in
Who do I trust?
I do what I must
I do what I love
You do what you lust
I don’t do it for luck
I do it for bucks
I do it for blessings
Turn my L into lessons
This is a message
I don’t hear you haters
Must be losing reception
I am the plug
My only connect is connect with the money
Don’t fuck with my money
The choppa went up, now you jumping like bungee
Was raised in the city
Was raised in the country
They pour up the Henny
They poured up the muddy
Cut the bitch off, had to get it some cutty
The prettiest nigga but shit could get ugly
I got a blue heart but I throw up the bloody
The money the blue
That’s word to Kentucky
Don’t care about shit
The liquor, it numb me
You hate me, you hate me
You love me, you love me
They leave when it rain
They come when it sunny
The grinch in my pocket, that’s why they so grumpy
She said that I’m cute, but cute is for puppies
Bitch, I’m a dog
Just feed me and fuck me
And roll up a blunt while you rub me
Put dick in your box, you put food in my tummy
When we get home better take off them clothes and no phones
Put your hair in a scrunchy
Freak in the sheets but a queen in the streets
Got me singing like isn’t she lovely?
I hate on niggas bitchin’
Listen, trigger finger itching, just call me a junkie
This shit is deeper than rap, this is above me
I am the monkey that’s stuck in the middle of misunderstanding and judgement
They think that they bringing me down
But I’m up to something
I’m here and I’m sticking around
This is not up for discussion, nigga
Gimme some head until you get a concussion
To me it’s just normal, to some it’s disgusting
Yeah, throw her ass on the bed when she’s fussing and cussing
Like, assume the position, stop making assumptions
Without the support I am nothing
Shout out my producer, I can’t forget the production
I broke a few hearts, had to do some construction
I swear it’s so hard to ignore that seduction
Red dot on the Glock look like she blushing
I’ma just shit on them niggas that thought they were stopping my toilet from flushing