[Intro]
I try to tell them I'm one of the
Best thinkers of this class I'm in
I feel like
[Verse 1]
Yeah, I'ma let the chips fall
n*ggas is Kemba Walker tryna see me pitfall
n*ggas Shyne like a synagogue: think about it
Centerfold b*tches prolly couldn't get a drink up out me
They say I need some guidance
But I think they need a stylist
b*tch you should see my wallet
This b*tch gonna need Pilates
And you can't see Folarin
What the f*ck are you, retarded?
I ain't hugging the corner, but I hustle so enormous
A modern day Goodfella, I'm Ray Liotta
Loud smoking so pass the L like a semicolon
The Bentley is rented but I got many chauffers
Foamposites if you ain't got em then you penny-loafing!
Underrated that's temporarily for the moment
Only marry your woman if mama cold as Willona
See, I'm second to no one
I'm the messenger-poet
They slowly showin' they colors
They music good but they bogus
Wale
[Chorus]
They talkin'
Talkin' bout Folarin
[Verse 2]
Verse 2 gon be f*cking with verse 1
Especially when you're writing sh*t that can never be done, Joe!
That Kevin Love flow
Bored of the shooters
My women be in the newest
Yo b*tches should buy a loofah
Where I'm from they is ruthless
Babies turn into shooters
Crazy talking and foolish
You catch a shell like a Koopa
And I don't give a f*ck, see my b*tches is kama sutra
One of them b*tches is cute, the rest of them congruent
Why you talking my n*gga? Just go and do it
n*ggas awful at dressing, they just a'ight at music
I'm trend-setting, despite of an awful debut
Still got me another deal big as any n*gga in music
The remedy is get your hustle on
f*ck a broad unless you love a broad
Well in that case, brother, then love her hard
Put my trust in my dog
Put my trust in my God
'Less you Stabler and Benson, I don't f*ck with the law
[Chorus]
They talkin'
Talkin' bout Folarin