Released: October 31, 2012
Songwriter: Curren$y
[Verse 1]
Wishing for a steak, eating on a Kit Kat
And yo bitch ain't shit, my lil homie hit that
He let his partnas flip that, brung it through the set
Told him that I couldn't do nothin with that, she riff-raff
Bring that bitch back
I'm pretty sure her duck ass waitin' to pick that up
Dust her off, he missing that, he fucking up
Ho going hammer like the speakers in the trunk
Ain't nobody but us
If you wanna know where get that real killa from
These opium raps, blue magic in the drums
Vacuum lung kush
Dracula; you'll live forever fucking with us
Impressions ever lasting
Moving on up, we the crew them suckers mad at
I don't give a fuck; loud weed, loud laughing
Ya'll making excuses and I make it happen
Ya'll acting and I'm actually in action
[Hook]
Lil something bout a nigga like me
New orleans bossed up J.E.T
Neighborhood kids lookin up to em
Bad bitches stayin true to em
Niggas tryin to do em
But they can't do nothin to em cause he like stainless steel
Only hatin on him because he keep it way too real
I don't know why, but he just so fly
Inspiration in the clouds as I ride by em
[Verse 2]
Spitta get up on them beats sky high
Killing niggas like a drive by
Controlled flow, no wild fire
If it's meant for ya, I deliver like a sniper
Fire, right between yo eyes, no liar
Came up with these rhymes one night in my Spyder
Cruisin my city, I ain't go in the club for five minutes
I just parked outside it, leaned on my exotic
Chopped it with my compadres, conspiring
On how to take the bank and not trip the sirens
Jets ain't just the pilot
Anybody repping my set trained and certified in the flyness
Theres more to this then yo clothes, lil bro
Even though I look cool in these threads
I make moves with a level head
Rolling up in a Lincoln with some Snoop playing, thinkin bout..
[Hook]
Wishing for a steak, eating on a Kit Kat
And yo bitch ain't shit, my lil homie hit that
He let his partnas flip that, brung it through the set
Told him that I couldn't do nothin with that, she riff-raff
Bring that bitch back
I'm pretty sure her duck ass waitin' to pick that up
Dust her off, he missing that, he fucking up
Ho going hammer like the speakers in the trunk
Ain't nobody but us
If you wanna know where get that real killa from
These opium raps, blue magic in the drums
Vacuum lung kush
Dracula; you'll live forever fucking with us
Impressions ever lasting
Moving on up, we the crew them suckers mad at
I don't give a fuck; loud weed, loud laughing
Ya'll making excuses and I make it happen
Ya'll acting and I'm actually in action
[Hook]
Lil something bout a nigga like me
New orleans bossed up J.E.T
Neighborhood kids lookin up to em
Bad bitches stayin true to em
Niggas tryin to do em
But they can't do nothin to em cause he like stainless steel
Only hatin on him because he keep it way too real
I don't know why, but he just so fly
Inspiration in the clouds as I ride by em
[Verse 2]
Spitta get up on them beats sky high
Killing niggas like a drive by
Controlled flow, no wild fire
If it's meant for ya, I deliver like a sniper
Fire, right between yo eyes, no liar
Came up with these rhymes one night in my Spyder
Cruisin my city, I ain't go in the club for five minutes
I just parked outside it, leaned on my exotic
Chopped it with my compadres, conspiring
On how to take the bank and not trip the sirens
Jets ain't just the pilot
Anybody repping my set trained and certified in the flyness
Theres more to this then yo clothes, lil bro
Even though I look cool in these threads
I make moves with a level head
Rolling up in a Lincoln with some Snoop playing, thinkin bout..
[Hook]