Gilbere Forte

Gilbere Forte - I'm Flexin songtekst

Je score:

Feat. Big K.R.I.T.



[Verse 1: Big Krit]

A loser I could never be, the bottom I will never see

You walk up like you wanna fight, bitch you know my 

pedigree

I cruise 'round with my chick, no Tec on this I put on 

car shows

Well sometimes niggas flex, I keep a stretcher in my 

car door

I work too hard to get caught up in the he say / she 

say bullshit

Chill, niggas talk lame tryna slander my name cause I 

f**ked some chick they cool with

She smile in your face, but this shit's so great, 

meanin' she love my music

Top 5 dead or alive no doubt in her mind, she choose 

Krit

I parle with my partners reminisce on all the broke 

days

Was fiending for a bottle, scraping dollars, praying, 

hope pays

Now it's bourgeois models, baby, swallow up on this 

rose

The last one you expected to be king, Keyser Söze

K-R-I-T workin' wheel, swangin' til my tires peel

Candy coated raindrops on my whip, and bitch it's so 

for real

M-I crooked letter, ho, who you know do it better folk

Put it down for the south, the best

The only thing I will settle for



[Verse 2: Gilbere Forte]

I talked about the plan before I lived it yo

Dreaming about this life that everybody thought I'd 

never know

I told my mama, my daddy, ain't want to lose hope

So I bottled up the spirit and I let go

Me and Raaks spent the summer making dreams off the 

kitchen floor

Folded up mattress for a seat, tryna mix the flow

16th and Willington, the Temple ? represent

Whoever thought that we would meet the f**kin 

President?

And this is only half of what God meant



He gave me vision and a voice to tell the world

This living is not an option and dying is only a wish

Baiting out my heart for the world to go fish

Cause we living on the land where the richest man is 

the shit

Only the wisest ones are struggling to make sense

So I'm breaking every dollar for my soul to change this

The greatest rapper would be living if ya resurrected 

(?)



[Hook] x 2

Cause we gon work, work

Cause we gon work, work

Cause we gon work, work

Cause we gon work, work



Cause we gon work, work

Cause we gon work, work

Cause we gon work, work

(Keepin’ that black soul alive)



[Verse 3: Gilbere Forte]

24 years old

Sold everything just for angels to tell me give em more

Feel like I'm from another planet somewhere that NASA 

know

I rap about everything that you went to class for

College graduation high stakes you keep a nigga low

Too many unfinished miseries for me to support

3 months after 87 Dreams I was out the door

New York, the city where we go big

I left my old contacts and my Blackberry at the crib

Any moment I'mma make it I don't owe a nigga shit

I told Raak we gon do it and touch the f**king world

In any way we never knew it, the only way to prove it

No money off this music til the future bring us to it

So keep your head high, watching God get us through it

Settin' goals to tell a story that God ain't finish 

paging

Proofreadin' his glory of amazement, amazing!
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Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

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