Back Again lyrics

by

J.R. Writer


[Verse 1]
Went from more marsh clears than mackage
Hermes scarfs m series the package
A good dude need a bad b*tch
It’s no reading when the mags lift
Still creepin with my last chick
Was pamperin n*ggas, training them how to have sh*t
Need a whole, f*ck all that half sh*t
The winter too long to act like I never had sh*t
Pimp still on winnin feel some
Said the young talent was swag like Ben Grill son
Shots hittin the 7, they tryina kill som
Quarter mill done, n*ggas slid like when the bill come
But thank god I know how to make sh*t
And get old girl go in and get sh*t
n*ggas we bank after bank, we try to rape sh*t
Then go drink after drink, and celebrate sh*t
Same class with street legends
Deep measures with n*ggas that blast the heat better
Funny style, don’t laugh but speak clever
Dark knights, get you killed faster than Heath Ledger
Rap bane, 2 guns Max Payne
Pac came for the worst shower, jack chain
You cats changed when getting some trap change
Arrogant, act strange, I’m c*cky I act damed
Dash at me, you give me the ass pass you
65 clash you I be the swag master
Sensei Bentley washed in wax after
Hit all stars in the morn then Sax after
If you ask for it, the arm lift
Rose is on the dashboard like orange zip
Black everything, chrome rims, my arm sick
Knockin every track out without a palm fist
[Hook]
The game whack so I’m back again
n*ggas in the trap like what’s happening
They wanna see a n*gga rap again
I ain’t on it but the homies not havin it
n*ggas talk that fly sh*t, I does that, that’s my sh*t
They like V you ain’t comfortable
You don’t come for mone, you ain’t a huxtable

[Verse 2]
I feel like a when he put out the venguish
Or like ec when that sl was dangerous
It’s too hot for these fake sh*ts
I done got too hot was on my main sh*t
I played the block where Ox Rot and Jason
Put my money on Poo, G Spot, he acin
I got 3 spots I’m chasin
Dolla for dolla, servin out of my basement
I see a lot of replacements, we lean on you
Like we gotta be wasted
Just take what’s out of the safe then
Too many keys, said he gotta be maintenance
I’m in the t top slot, it’s been a month
You n*ggas only reracked once, sellin d brown
While d block buck, in the town
I put 8 balls like a Reebok tuck
Ah, you can smell the piff, ain’tgotta open the bag
You could tell it’s it, yeah import her a bag
It’s what you tell this b*tch
That’s all corny and sad, I can tell you b*tch
[Hook]
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