Tay Roc | Funk Flex | #Freestyle026 lyrics

by

Vince Staples


[Verse 1]
Always workin', sittin' chillin' won't get a million
We got extensions on the pistol, the clip Brazalian
You might know me from URL, we in the building
I'm that Maryland n*gga Smack called for the killings
n*ggas know i'm hot, for them I couldn't say the same
I'm smokin' on Khalifa kush outta paper planes
Try and take a chain, get a Buck 50 that's Major Payne
I make a razor appear from my mouth like David Blaine
n*ggas get they momma cut for tryna stunt
You want a fade, the blade'll give you any design you want
Think Roc a chump till I pop the trunk, I got the pump
Come to your crib, run n*ggas out like I'm Donald Trump
I'm never gon' lose, thought I would never shine
Now I'm here, Flex, makin' upper-echelon moves
I rock Designer when the weather all cool
Them Giuseppe's got gold buckles like Leprachaun shoes
n*ggas ain't gotta feel me, b*tches ain't gotta love me
All I need is my blunt, hammer and God above me
When you at the bottom broke as a joke it's not as funny
I'm just tryna turn this flow I got into a lotta money
Let me in the industry, it's gon' be a f*ckin' problem
I'm snatchin' n*ggas Rollies off 'em when I come across 'em
I come through with the Cave, we the 300 Spartan
And I just put a lens on the Tommy, shout out to Martin
Ain't nothin' new, I've been this awesome since kindergarten
Get involved in my business, get planted in the garden
If n*ggas starvin', we get to robbin'
Lookin' for whoever got beef with the sticks, we shish kebabin'
You know I'm sick, get the Sudafeds
Xannies and Percs on deck for whoever that do the meds
Rudolph the reigns, dear Santa, the coupe is red
n*ggas run through the bread
My belt buckle left a Medusa head
n*gga, I let it ring from the finger like newlyweds
Quick to draw, get you outlined what I do with lead
pus*y you hard of hearin' till you was dead
Words in one ear and out the other till a bullet go thru your head
Hear me now? I'm not your folks
I will pop the toast, shots'll go
Through your Rolls Royce Wraith, you comin' out a Ghost
It's funny till you die laughin' thinkin' Roc a joke
Keep your chopper close
We catch you slippin', that's vamanos
Adios, 1800 ain't the block to post
Youngins is starvin' and killin' whoever got the most
I was a wild youngin too without a drop of hope
One time I made 1500 off a block of soap
[Verse 2]
Straight from the jump, you c*cksuckers do not run us
Cannot son us, Roc one of the top gunners
Where I'm from it be cold winters and hot summers
Two things I don't trust: b*tches and block numbers
Cave all black, we don't color bang nothin'
n*ggas ain't weight hustlin', you n*ggas is straight bluffin'
Left the trap for two years 'cause I caught a case buggin'
Now I'm back, the temptation was worser than Dave Ruffin
Itchin' to get back in the kitchen and shave onions
n*ggas ain't eatin' with us then n*ggas gonna hate, f*ck 'em!
I be outta state thuggin', doin' what I wanna
I don't do it 'cause I gotta, I do it 'cause I'm gonna
n*gga I'm from a strip if you slippin' you just a goner
Them n*ggas is gettin' pinched and they snitchin' straight to Your Honor
You want a brick? The sh*t gon' cost you a Charger
You want a half a brick? The sh*t gon' cost you a Honda
You want a quarter brick? The sh*t gon' cost an Elantra
We get rid of whip like an auction—what's your offer?
We all are G's if y'all ain't seen us
Gangsters don't die, they get chubby then move out to Cartagena
Where they pack Cuban cigars with reefer
Run up on me, I'm lettin' off a nina
You sweet as a margarita
Pull up on a n*gga and spark the heater
He ain't have time to park his Beamer
Left bullet holes in the parking meter
Y'all all is divas, I sh*t on all of the nonbelievers
Off the purple and Molly, feel like I've gone to Venus
Your team haters, I don't deal with no cheapscapers
Catch me in the Charger lookin' like Speed Racer
n*gga 10 years ago I was a dream chaser
I done seen paper, I'm no longer a teenager
I used to hustle next door to the fiend neighbors
Gave him a Tesla, he was still high a week later
Industry n*ggas phony and I ain't seen faker
You cross Roc we gon' crucify you and cremate ya
Tie you up and hit your face with a cheese grater
'Cause you look like the type of n*gga that do police favors
Cops kicked the door lookin' for the P's though
Had me in the court room smellin' like weed smoke
I used to know this rich junky that need coke
He sniffed it in front of me out a rolled-up C-note
He copped the ounce and put it in his Burberry peacoat
He pushed a white Lex till his license got revoked
I ain't seen him in a minute, n*gga's a real addict
If you see him, give him my number, tell him we still at it
I'm tryna turn a half a kilo into nine squares
Just in case you ask me where I see myself in five years
I gotta do this for all my n*ggas that's not here
Momma see her baby boy eatin' without the high chair
If we ain't have it, we ain't stressin', we made it fast
We was takin' n*ggas off of everything they had
The whip clean, if they pull me over I make 'em mad
Once they get the package I take the bus or I take the cab
OG's told me chill or I couldn't play the ave
Had to wisen up, I was cutthroat makin' cash
I was takin' n*ggas cells with the fakest badge
Burnt fiends with so much soap they could take a bath
n*ggas make me laugh, y'all crazy ass
I don't give a f*ck what you sold, that sh*t is trash
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