Yorkin'

Sully

Spent a G on a bottle, about to pop it with a model
You can bet that they both gonna open up
I drank that whole bitch straight, got the spins but hey
It tastes like money as soon as I throw it up
You can get the bar's open
Car's foreign
Sully, Nikque? Dark horses
Dom? Pour it
Times, Forbes List
Lines? Snort it
I'm yorkin'

Your bitch open like a clam shell
My dick is in her damn tail
You really think she's loyal? Because honestly bro I can't tell
The jewelry store sends fan mail
Twin turbo whip fast as hell
But next to the Ducati that shit looking like a damn snail
Shit
I can't believe we really made it
This shit's only the beginning but we still feel pretty famous
My phone book looks like the A-list
Plus some nameless girls to play with
Starry eyed watching my spaceship blast off her face to her anus
Man I'm gone, faded
Pause, faceless
She's trying to eat my dick like it's an edible arrangement
Lost patience
God made this
Well technically just me, bustin' my ass like I did to your main chick
If you talk shit you can deep throat a stainless
Might have you talking to us through a ouija
I can't promise that it will be painless
But I can promise that it will be easy
Man to be honest I just want to vomit, pathetic how all these new rappers want to be me
Me and Nikque have been popping and never looked back since Wyclef heard us remix believe me
He said he loved it, he'd take us on tour, then turned his back scared I'd be better than he be
Broke the promise he made and he got on the plane
Driving Uber he ain't even tip me
917-213-9 something to call him, a right off Burning Hallow to stop by the crib
The point is my talents are God's gift, even the legends are scared of the kid

Spent a G on a bottle about to pop it with a model
You can bet that they both gonna open up
I drank that whole bitch straight
Got the spins but hey
It tastes like money as soon as I throw it up
You can get the bar's open
Car's foreign
Sully, Nikque? Dark horses
Dom? Pour it
Times, Forbes List
Lines? Snort it
I'm yorkin'

I've been rolling in a foreign ride, I
Think I want to go get high by
Sniffing coke, and lean on ice, I
Think I might be dead inside

But it don't matter I'm still living
And kicking out every rapper who thinks that they're something different
Blood dripping making a killing
While they're trying to make a living
So they're hidden in the kitchen like their day job's washing dishes
Now listen
My head is twisted
I ain't got no pot to piss in
Since I'm made up of new money I'm throwing it like I'm pitching
To bitches whose wearing linen
Like they can't afford some britches
While I'm dipping in a Lambo that's tinted painted like minions
And I'm sipping on a potion with Sprite and something else mixed in
I'm lifted and moving slowly, my beverage colored like Grimace
I'm thinking this shit is too strong, each sip has doubled my vision
Either that or there's four women on my dick wetter than swimmers
I'm about to need some stitches
Lose an eye, maybe a finger
Because it seems that no one told them be careful playing with scissors
I'm missing something intrinsic, inside my head is horrific
But these princess diamonds inset have got me feeling religious
I'm gifted I must admit it, you're never closing the distance
The money that's pouring in is kept in the family like incest
I spit this shit with a mission, I rhymed this verse start to finish
So you witless, mumbling bitches know your life is better ended

Sully