Wale
Wale - Fa We We songtekst
Je score:
[Verse 1] Stuntin’ on these niggas every one of them Ralph Folarin via untouchable double M Genius, no bleachers, floor seat us Dope thoughts, that guap, pray for Adidas Twelve lines that can melt minds when it’s hail time That’s why these bitches goin’ down boy, I should sell sly Lil sly fly nigga, my nigga And this rap shit a circus I only ride for my niggas And I know I use the n-word too much, and the b-word too much I know I seem like I’m lunchin’ but let me see I make a dam by taking beavers to lunch Suck your teeth all you want boy, your joint on my jock Every nigga with commercial success is getting closer to helping mama go further from them What’s the purpose of working if you ain’t touchin’ the kids What’s the purpose of respect if both your mamas in debt Dreamed of video vixens, verses on Drama cassettes Now these ganstas is grillin’, although they gotta respect Good in all regions, the strippers say I’m G cuz I tip ‘em I’m talkin’ G shit, and a nigga on repeatin’ the trap Shoutout to NO, on the for real though The ho tellin’, card ‘em like incidentals And I ain’t even playin’, this game is so mental You keep talkin’ ’bout potential, your career’s an intro And now cho keep his mouth closed Just that flow he throw around be sellin’ out shows Life crazy, couple statements can buy you Mercedes Quit your hatin’ now baby that ain’t how God made ya Yeah I get it, want the best for my niggas Few chains, more whips nigga, dominatrix I said that before, but I’m more relevant now than when I said that before When I left after school, a lot said I’d be broke Allah knew I’d be good, so now I’m blessin’ the folks Try to stunt on my haters, give these young niggas hope And with this drive I will traffic intellectual dope, you know Aight, keep it goin’, keep it goin’ fuck it Cause I’m the best with these quotes, don’t be respectin’ these hoes She in the books, I’m in her head, that’s no telepathy though Can’t stand it, nigga’s famous, they can’t mess with me though They need to let that boy cook, I got that recipe, hold up Who not respectin’ me, confront me when correctin’ me ho You pull a string that says oh, I make a symphony with phones Orchestrate how I do it, off the top we official Not a opera at all, but I’m in a Phantom with bitches