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parking spot - .jmack lyrics

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one shot, two shot, vodka red bull got me drunk b-tch
regretful choices expected my head full of that dumb sh-t
runnin’ for the exit if you’re dumb enough to front it

hit the cut wit’ all my cousins cut the drugs up no discussion
(and)
you expected me to be yo’ mans
(wasn’t you?)
i’ve got some sh-t that i’m going through
all of my issues seem fun to you
i was depressed when it wasn’t cool
(and f-ck it i still am)
clip full of that lucid but lately that sh-t gon’ jam
(and)
you and ya mans got green, but if you speak we leave you both red
talking back to me will get you dangled over low-ledge
my necklace chokes on figure-fo’, my diamonds dance on broke legs
posted in this rover with a 4-5 and an old head

44 bl!cky wit’ me please call me dirk nowitzki
i’ve got top guns, i’m a maverick
speaking truths from areas where n-ggas do not have sh-t
i’ma play my own music up in the whip before i crash it
(this is road rage)
petrol-scented cocaine
chrome-plated the rove-range
driving like i’m stone-faced hit my plug up on the post-haste
go hotbox a hut my mental state is in the stone age
i’ma beat the brakes up off a beat and cause another cold case

we is just a group of n-ggas who been smokin’ in the parking lot
i apologize if we’ve been smokin’ in you parking spot
b-tch i like to fight, i’m known to bite, i never bark alot
i thought you knew that real g’s move in silence
out here in the islands, for like
(how many days?)
me and all my n-ggas we just tryna catch a wave
we just all tryna get paid, i know its selfish
i can’t really help it i’ve been working like a slave

(f-ck)

i need a face tat
i know that my n-ggas really hate it when i say that
but if i f-ckin’ get it, cop a deal and then a maybach
i got too drunk to drive and then i couldn’t find the way back

ig’nant little n-gglet i’ve been sprinting through prescriptions
left my baby-sitter missing
b-tches slippin’, sl!ck to cut-em off
that’s something slight, something raw
i stumbled out the liquor store
i’m looking for my bong so i could craft a couple songs
(i thought you liked ’em?)
old friends i might just fight ’em
but my emotions a lighter
and b-tches ran through the bic
i’m always quiet as sh-t
my mental state on the fritz
don’t know who you are or what’s good, but i know you isn’t it
mind on the razor, hands on the bricks
i find me the time to take trips
i flip me a zip of the gas for gas to make movements
groovy n-gga lookin’ lucid inside of some gucci
bet you wouldn’t know that he been through it
if you knew it, you ignored it
maybe you should’ve helped
i was too loose for my boot-straps, so i pulled them up myself
got a crib, accrued some wealth
or whatever the f-ck jay-z said
a n-gga need some millions
f-ck i look like paying for one of your beats if i’ma k!ll it
you n-ggas need to try harder, yo’ difficulty on easy
i was balling on hall of fame before a&r’s could come see me
i’m too accustomed to bull-sh-t
my mind has been loading full-clips
i’m posted in front of cl-ss ready to confront all the cool kids

we is just a group of n-ggas who been smokin’ in the parking lot
i apologize if we’ve been smokin’ in you parking spot
b-tch i like to fight, i’m known to bite, i never bark alot
i thought you knew that real g’s move in silence
out here in the islands, for like
(how many days?)
me and all my n-ggas we just tryna catch a wave
we just all tryna get paid, i know its selfish
i can’t really help it i’ve been working like a slave

f-ck it, it is what it is
we just gon’ live how we live
these b-tches do what they do
they still can’t come to the crib

i don’t know
i need a face-tat

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