J.R. Writer
J.R. Writer - What Set You Claim songtekst
Je score:
Chorus: I've been doing this consistant, I ain't never changed Every studio I visit it was set in flames (FIRE) If you respect the game, get your money, F the fame Twist up your your fingers nigga let 'em know what set you claim, hey I'm from the back blocks of harlem, where they Mac and revolve 'em If he ask for a problem, walk up in the building clack up and rob 'em Harlem nigga, the men in black couldn't guard 'em Verse 1: (hey) I'm in the Rover grinding wit' a couple older women And all the windows down just so you can know I'm winning (yea thats me) But if the doja trippin' trust there wont be no avenges (why) I'll put you all in trunks, like you niggas going swimming (blaat) Get you off quick, for the slow dough I'm spendin' (what's dat?) You'll see a row of henchmen (when?) soon as I throw a lincoln Not to overmention nigga you was cheap (why) If you cripple me, I'd still be on my feet Llyircally I'm heat, turn these creeps into dirt garbage (basura) I got that hunger that you had when you first started Hood to the burbs (suburbs) hardest truly a G (who?) JR writer that nigga you salute when you see, cuz Chorus: I've been doing this consistant, I ain't never changed Every studio I visit it was set in flames (FIRE) If you respect the game, get your money, F the fame Twist up your your fingers nigga let 'em know what set you claim, hey I'm from the back blocks of harlem, where they Mac and revolve 'em If he ask for a problem, walk up in the building clack up and rob 'em Harlem nigga, the men in black couldn't guard 'em Verse 2: I'm a diplomat OG, you's a midget scrap stop 'Fore this fifth or Mac pop, sit you in a black box Got my fitted cap twisted back, in the lac drop Theres some chick i mack, in the back givin that top I'm a smooth mothafucka, with Killa rap props The kid is trash not, I am skipping past hot You ain't spittin crack rock, new airs with the see-through fronts, chump (why?) So you can see my diplomat socks ha You ain't heard of who? i skip by in convertibles At Summer Jam performing for 50,000, where were you? Fuck what they said, you forever a biter And ain't got enough swag to be better then Writer, cuz Chorus: I've been doing this consistant, I ain't never changed Every studio I visit it was set in flames (FIRE) If you respect the game, get your money, F the fame Twist up your your fingers nigga let 'em know what set you claim, hey I'm from the back blocks of harlem, where they Mac and revolve 'em If he ask for a problem, walk up in the building clack up and rob 'em Harlem nigga, the men in black couldn't guard 'em