Lou Rawls in Streetwear lyrics


Vic Spencer

Beast the body bag in the Gmail
Post it in Inglewood in front of the seashell
Rappers telling weak tales
f*ck the walk away music until my feet swell
Chicks sign my details
Big things come in small packages
Laugh at chicks that’s ugly as f*ck that want slaps of di*k
Three Six Mafia world domination
Loose magnums at the gas station
Dig in the weed stash
Pick up all the fine hoes that tell me their needs fast
f*ck I look like, a f*cking sugar daddy
b*tch I look good in caddys
n*ggas run fast in the hood but hate track meets
I fell asleep at the derby, the sh*t was boring
Went to see Chiraq in the theater, n*ggas snoring
Smoking on big cannons
That’s word to my n*gga Goose blowing on Tropicana
Still trying to drink a quart of water
It’s better than smoothies. Bеnding the rules how I’m killing you
Go into an opera just to samplе sh*t
I seen Oprah one time and day dreamed she grabbed my di*k (Baby)
They playing Lou Rawls in the elevator
Elevated, delicate moments stoking on radiators
The only n*gga that be cruising to some Zion I
This records the same as a fat kid staring at their mammas pie
Don’t touch, get your ass kicked
Spit about five times the planet injected with a whole lot of bullsh*t
I could name but I’m high
Nobody loves me so I love white rice
(That sh*t dry as f*ck)
Send them that sh*t via PayPal
Same socks on for seven days straight, I stay foul (Ew)
Chilling with my Detroit tiger
She say eat you heart out, I dump the bodies in 8 Mile
Sending sauce to your mother f*cking Gmail b*tch
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