What The F**k Is This

Mr. Cheeks, Caspa, Kenneth Payton

[Verse 1]
First of all, I set this off on the right note
I wear no leather white shoes, no leather white coat
It's your nigga Cheeks, coming from the slum
Fucking with the rest of them
You know the best of them is crumbs
A lot of slum cats, we get hit with bum raps
How much you want to bet them faggots set them dumb traps
So all we been through, go through, and run through
Now when I cop my jewelry, I gotta cop a gun too
Certain faggot niggas I don't fuck with anymore
They fronting like they seen nothing, I know many saw
Keep it lowkey, yeah these niggas know me
I'm motherfucking OD, I represent with OB
Basically cuz a nigga's talking shit still
I bеt when I drop my shit, they see that shit's real
That nigga hit, hе did some shit, he did a long big
[?], it's on kid
My brother Wally on the side, he keep that heavy metal
Niggas know when I come through I keeps it very ghetto
[?], it's lowkey relating
Suckas fronting like they rich, what that bitch saying?
Players haters hating on us cuz we jingling
With hot chicks, we mingling, they pop until they're single and
Seen my menace on, fuck it, once again it's on
Skills is what y'all niggas need, got weed and my Guinness on

[Hook]
Basically, man, I see it all the time
Niggas fronting shine but they can't grind
What the fuck is this?
These corny niggas always fronting like they ball
When we come through, they play the wall
What the fuck is this?

[Verse 2]
I goes the whole mile, my style is unlisted
This ain't no comeback so don't get it twisted
We get money, spend money, how the cool do
Y'all niggas see me doing me, y'all niggas, who you?
Your fast food rap groups with your rap troupes
First of all, where y'all niggas get your rap roots?
Forget laying up, I'm staying up in labs
Pushing rhymes like yo, we taking planes like cash
The jiggy nigga from Queens with my [?] jeans
My videos with some prose, the boulevard sings
Okay, tec shit, get paid before I wreck shit
That nigga from the slums so I comes with some neck shit
My army black, it keep me covered, got my Tims on
Hot shoes up in my whip, that means there's rims on
Basically we stepping high to this shit
Basically man, we got to this shit
Crumple sticky green inside the sweet Backwoods
Duns snatching black hoods, it's real how we attack hoods
How that shit sound, my chick shop Midtown
Write my own rhymes man, nobody holds the kid down
First of all, it's official how we ball
Higher and higher, us niggas trying not to fall
I could care less about your nigga's [?]
Like I said, do you but don't break the rules

[Hook]

Beliebteste Lieder von Mr. Cheeks

Andere Künstler von Film score