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micheal myers - detroit l-o lyrics

[intro]

yea. raw, raw, sh*t
detroit l*o broooooo
lyrically original my n*gga, you know it
n*gga this that raw sh*t, lyrically original disc 1
(new beginning my n*gga)
you done tuned into the most original sh*t you gon listen to all year
oh yea

[verse]

allow me to introduce myself, im detroit l*o mr stack season
but i’m stackin paper all year round, while yall n*ggas waitin on stack season
play da game, yall n*ggas cheating, love to see my whole team eating
i’m in her phone under plumber n*gga, cuz she call me wen her p*ssy leaking
shout out all da ones dat got the tape and supporting n*gga i feel that
you would think it was a movie return how detroit lo bring the reel back
hatin n*gga, you can k!ll that, yo mouth, n*gga u can seal that
that 4*5 he conceal that, her p*ssy i shaquille o’neal that
some days you can catch me cruising, n*gga some days i be burnin out
lips probably joined the track team, cuz i see you really love to run yo mouth
granny dead and my mama struggling, and my father still out smoking dope
n*ggas praying for that concentration, n*gga i call that focus hope
hoes get excited wen they see me, now she tryna hang like mimi
if she act up while im in da booth, i kick her out da lab like dee dee
told em get the tape off of datpiff, they like naw bro i want a cd
then its no problem then, where u live and i’m coming at you like 3d
ya’ll n*ggas lame, ya’ll full of games like xbox ans ps3
im tryna bubble like multiple choice, and yo b*tch steady tryna test me
ill flip the script and give her ass the d, if yo b*tch ever try to check me
i swear i got motivated as f*ck when i saw cash*mir on them jet skis
stackin that paper in every way, i’m going gorilla, they call me dk
giving these n*ggas no f*cking leeway, f*ckin her friend, i don’t care what she say
give me bj, i ain’t talkin dj, hit her all night now she sparking a blunt
hit it so good that she wanna buy lunch, and throw me some cash on the first of the month
tired of all of these wack n*ggas just dropping songs swearing that they snapping
deez n*ggas talking bullsh*t on these tracks dawg, let alone rapping
n*gga sell one dime bag then rap about it, let alone trapping
i see the future, make a k!lling, drop a tape, now my phone slapping
ain’t that sum sh*t, step in the spot girlies l!cking they lips
hop on a plane and these n*ggas a trip, all of these b*tches say “f*ck it” and strip
give her advice when i give her a tip, syke naw my baby, i’m just talkin sh*t
gave me a pass wit no permission slip, gun on my waist, so you know that i’m hip
b*tch
calm down detroit l*o, you going too crazy
i ain’t cuffed cuz most the girls i f*cked with was fugazi
get the bread, now i’m premium sirloin steak chewing
yall n*ggas dumb like patrick star, i slam like patrick ewing
i don’t freestyle b*tch, and i don’t battle rap
this the end of yall n*ggas road like a cul de sac
you would think his friend was dre, how he roll with the mac
you would think jackpot a nerd how he stay with that pack
n*gga don’t hate, f*ck yo new sh*t, i pull sh*t out the crate
i can take yo main b*tch out on a date, yall n*ggas play gangsta like larenz tate
you in my circle, ill get you shape, i’m sticking to it like crazy glue tape
ill bring my dawg, you bring yo b*tch, get em together and we’ll let em mate
leave them n*ggas in trail dawg, they can breath the smoke from my exhaust pipe
hear this and get froze up, i know n*ggas got frost bite
walk around wit that loose money, cuz i’m knowing that you got sh*t tight
you was fly, then you disappeared, you remind me of that malaysian flight
bouta go hard again, soon as i leave then he wanna act hard again
i can just call my n*ggas da backyardigans, talk about them and they in yo backyard again
chilling wit my n*gga anthony jernigan
hit in the whip, it depends on what car we in
laughing at n*ggas, did someone let martin in?
you want a verse, then that track, you can send it then
b*tch

[outro]

yea, n*gga you already know what it is. new sh*t, lyrically original disc 1 boy. (gold bottle team)
the new beginning my n*gga (b*tch)
what up jackpot (what up doe my n*gga)
what up cash*mir, what up easy dae
shout out my n*gga j manny, my n*gga lil shawn
my n*gga pepp on the boards, you already know
shout out to yo b*tch cuz she was at my crib last night
(ayyy)
detroit l*o, you already know what it is
you know it, b*tch
liveraw gold bottle team, b*tch

- detroit l o lyrics

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