White Tee

Quentin Butler

White tee, blue jeans with a bitch in the breeze
Ass to fat, she's wearing capris god damn
Broke boys trying to down me
I'm too busy with a girl in PT
Business attire like a motherfucking white guy
Shorty is my type
Make her go night night
Bagging the bitches from the rags to riches, I'm not digging the ditches, I'm chasing millions motherfucker
Two bands on my feet cause your boy a big stepper
AMG, I ain't fucking with the other letters
Flow to hot, I must be a chilly pepper
Say you're backing down, pussy boy, yeah you fucking better
Huh?
Think that I misheard you
Said your raps are way more clever?
Said you're harder than the other?
Boy, you know my flow like butter
That's debatable
I'm relatable
Cut you off motherfucker, umbilical cord
Floored
My raps got you on the floor, sitting there piss poor, chasing bitches now you're broke, joke
Every time you get your shot choke
Every time you touch the mic you froze
"Hey, can I get on your song?"
Let me think
No
Cut the fucking beat
I'm hard, not street
Working out everyday to fill out my tee, god damn
Flowing like a motherfucking wave in the ocean
She for the streets, her dry ass ocean
"Hey, QB come put me in motion"
Girl, I'm good, that's why I got lotion
Damn, let me focus
Controversial causing commotion
Hold it
I wonder if would have had a deal by now cause my dumb ass never goes through with promotions
Checking me for contraband, I ain't even holding
Look at your ass under pressure, folding
Well, look at me rapping, this shit's kind of easy
Not one soul even offered to teach me
I find it kind of funny that they're really getting records deals but within a few years, can't pay the damn bills
Hey, don't shoot the messenger, just saying real spill
Y'all drop garbage, might need a landfill
Soft ass boys, what're you doing? Picking daffodils?
Wonder why a motherfucker had to pop the pills
Wonder why your sales don't reflect your appeal
Really drop trash, but y'all relevant still
Man, this industry's heading downhill
Yeah, what the fuck?
Hop out the beam fit dripping like water
Feeling like Wayne after making of The Carter
Save a couple lives as a nurse, I'm a martyr
Stacks in the bank, yeah this card takes charges
Want this music, I want to live larger
Got some streams, I want to work harder
I don't know where he at even though he's my father
Pen to the pad, write raps, no stylus, yeah yeah
Slam a motherfucker on the head like the undertaker
Kill a motherfucker on the mic like the terminator
Give a bitch pleasure down south like a vibrator
I'm a piece of candy, want me now or later?
Like my coins, I'm all about my paper
Boy, on god, you'll never hear me say "I paid her"
She ain't mine, don't tell people that I gave her
Never in your debt so don't ask for a favor
Boy you're a cock block, get gone, chop chop
Had her the bedroom legs all propped up
Never going to stop until I make it to the tip top
Swear to god your bitch hot, cause all her lips locked
Sizzle in your ears when I rap, yeah pop rocks
Cool off of shorty, swear to god I don't need the box
Asking where I'm at, are you ratting to the fucking cops?
Yeah, eight four three's waiting on the drop, white tee
Yeah

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Das Lied “White Tee” von Q wurde von Quentin Butler komponiert.

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