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cordae | la leakers freestyle #188 - cordae lyrics

part i: “oh boy” by cam’ron

[verse 1]
all the girls see the (boy), look at his kicks (boy)
look at his car (boy), all i say is (oh, boy)
look, mami, i’m so hood, i’m no good for you, for real
ayy, they say times is h*lla rough
you ain’t make it ’cause you ain’t fell enough
ain’t been low enough, sh*t, they know i drop the coldest stuff
word to barry bonds, you got no hits ’cause you ain’t dope enough
i’ll never forget the people showin’ love when i was broke as f*ck
flow like murda mase, got your back like a vertebrae
i learned from ye, i don’t give a f*ck ’bout what i heard him say
million’s what i earned today, shawty, get you a perm today
f*ck her and thеn i terminate, b*tches buggin’, еxterminate
it’s bad news, gang*affiliated tattoos
the stakes is high like wagyu, but sh*t, who asked you?
top down in a jag’ coupe, them boys really from the concrete
they’ll make your wig split like a rap group
the crossroads is out, ooh, shameless promotion
i give this game my devotion and if i ain’t be the dopest
what typa ‘cane is you smokin’? remove the pain and emotion
i’m with your [?] in the ocean, i can’t complain’, i’m just coastin’
n*gga, hi*level what i’m reppin’ forever
health inspector, how i’m checkin’ this cheddar
i lived on mlk drive where you won’t catch a coretta
but you’ll catch a baretta, i never will let up
we in this together, money, power, super colossal
so much effort in my verses, i stay true to the gospel
rap n*gga gassed up, but i’ll turn you to a fossil
them young n*ggas youthful and hostile
you putrid and docile, you’re music is awful
your crib old, could use a remodel
crashing out like alcoholics straight up using a bottle
i’m not neutral, i’m shallow, hop in a coupe, go to cabo
[?] used to a brothel, think you sick? then i’m nukin’ a hospital
b*tch, i’ll do the impossible, pop a roofie, then off we go
i can’t help that i’m awfully dope, but you a ho n*gga
lame*ass broke n*gga, bro moves birds like edgar allan poe, n*gga
lamar jackson how i’m throwed n*gga
crib down payments is what i’m makin’ off a show, n*gga
so just go, n*gga, just go, n*gga
part ii: “tgif” by glorilla

[verse 2]
ayy, uh, the girls rappin’ better than you n*ggas is
for real, ayy, don’t believe how big it is
uh, all my businesses is legitimate (they really is though), ayy, look
first off, i’m a rich n*gga with a big ass house that’s on seven acres
got a few opp’s, but i can never hate ya
f*ck i look like responding to speculators?
money trees grow a branch like a legislative
keep a dawg like nate, regulate ya
in the crib, chillin’, got h*lla paper, four stories, need a elevator
garbage rappers, time to finish ’em
they get away with murder, george zimmerman
and these rappers be actin’ too feminine
shoutout to glorilla, most of these rappers you idolise’ ho n*ggas
grew up, we looked up to dope dealers
they’ll get you wrapped for like motherf*ckin’ four figures
and we takin’ over the whole winter
my new b*tch ball like the dalai lama
but i give her good wood like i’m hashirama
all my n*ggas be stackin’ and countin’ commas
but don’t get it confused, we still with the drama
spanish b*tch put my d*ck in her empanada
and my amex the same color as obama
eighty*five bricks like chad johnson
then give it away, keep a good conscious
okay, i like all my b*tches raunchy, they wear givenchy
that good dope, then keep the white girl just like i’m bronny
my n*gga, push and stand with that ye like he [?]
that sh*t beyond me, but guarantee i keep a dime piece
okay, we just be chasin’ them racks, tryna catch me a bag
so my daughter won’t lack, okay
media try to attack, tryna hold n*ggas back
’cause we young and we black, okay
fresh up off of a sack, put the team on my back
i don’t need no advance, okay
fear a n*gga slime, he ain’t do no crime
that’s a twin like cody and zack, okay, uh
she gon’ let me f*ck, ayy, best believe it’s up, ayy
all my homies single, uh, but keep a double cup, ayy
swear that she can’t stomach me, but i’m all in her guts
i can’t stand these n*ggas like david duke
i came to spread the truths amongst the lies
i can talk all day about bottega shoes or just the brand new coupes in my garage
i’d rather keep it real about the sh*t i feel
you cannot shut me up, i beat the odds
they tried to blackball me, ’cause i talk too much
i feel like kyrie irving on his grind
back and i’m better, not lackin’ no cheddar
you’re little vendetta ain’t stoppin’ me never
paid all my debts and i paid all my taxes
my daughter relaxin’, that sh*t give me pleasure
now twenty*seven my uncle just did twenty*seven
they freed him like nelson mandela
[?] came home and he just did seven
but now he be steppin’ in maison margiela
ayy, another freestyle off the dome, n*gga, who can rock with me?
i can spit a hundred bars, n*gga, keep it sixteen, no josh giddey
a young n*gga just did it big ’cause he clipped a n*gga like livecity
i’m the motherf*ckin’ hottest n*gga out of dmv since shy glizzy
everyday i drive a maybach, but on the weekend, i drive a 550
this is off the f*ckin’ dome, n*gga, let’s uh go home now
i got a flight to catch in like thirty minutes
all my n*ggas, we*we can get it
all my n*ggas, off the leakers, justin incredible off the speakers
let’s get it

- cordae lyrics

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