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randy foye - allstarrdagreat lyrics

[intro: announcer 1 and (announcer 2)]

in to faried
(too much time, too much time)
randy foye…

[verse 1: allstarrdagreat]
how they hatin on a real one?
ubereats vibes, i’m just tryna make a meal run
getting to that turkey, we so thankful for that pilgrim
in*di*an (in the end) i won’t feel alive til i k!ll sumint’
yeah
aw man, aw man
this that pure raw, that uncut white, that roseanne
she blastin lindsay lohan
the stamp say “suzanne”
pinky ring on my hand, mama, i’m a married man
to the block
to the goup
i’m outta my top, these balenciaga socks
i need diddy on the remix singing “make it hot”
make it hot, baby
make it hot
you never carried your man in the er ‘cause he just got shot
played lego with you kids, really had to spin the block
red gon on the yellow
jazzed it up, called it “snot”
he dun whacked the whole eight
sh*t like that gon get him shot
with my shoes half laced, i’m a real half knot
everyday a new box, but we don’t online shop
he did the jooks barefaced, cashed out, no stop
boy, you in love with that thot
you gon tell the truth or not?
she just wanna make a payment
she don’t care he makes a lot
when my wifey read “becoming” i’ll be feelin like barack
on my pops, if that man ain’t teach me much, he taught me lot
man, these mcs light (lyte)
n*ggas lighter than a rock
my plug named scott
a white boy with that white, boy
i’m bound to get your b*tch, i’m like a thyroid
smellin like amber white, let me pop this altoid
this xl sh*t like the third row in the envoy
top down banging anita baker “you bring me joy”
this is not weed, ray, this is boy
it hit his vein he’ll never ever be the same as before
rich n*gga from newark, i swear i feel like randy foye

[verse 2: benny the butcher]

(let’s go. the butcher comin, n*gga!)

dough in a night box
dope in the rice box
the fiends spend they last on it and smoke til the pipe hot
you can’t talk no gangsta sh*t to me then hang in night spots
this fo pound chunky, we feelin lucky like the dice hot
my homie out west sending passes from cali just like he matt leinart
you think you hustlin?
i had em lined up like it’s a crack diner
these cats silent, but on wax though, they act violent
this black nine’ll hit every rapper like blac chyna
i see your b*tch, she give that sloppy to me
i have her slobberin, drooling, that’s the only way she get to shop in bloomie’s
i’m in to baller sh*t, pardon all this rocky jewelry
you got a box? then shoot me
pick one, ‘cause i’m with goonies
we don’t do no bread talk
you a thousand grams short
louis luggage landing at the san juan airport
biscuit in my jeans got me limpin like my leg short
i’ll pull it out these g*stars and cl!ck and take ya head off
let’s go

[outro: announcer]

lawson
extra pass…foye…
yes! randy foye!
what a good find by ty lawson

- allstarrdagreat lyrics

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