ac massacre - left lane didon & jay nice lyrics
[verse 1: left lane didon]
left lane
peep
i’m a player of the highest order
n*gga my grind enormous, tend to the money tree like the brightest florists
neighborhood know who supply the order
a [?] with my essay, negotiating beside the border
night ended when the day began
baby dumper lay you flat on yourself if he display the can
by god’s grace i escaped the hand
to let my verse give birth to the nations like father abraham
they say it’s pr*ckled but i say it’s flam
my customer’s fickle, they ain’t paying in if they don’t get the flamest grams
every day the money changing hands
my little cousin got a dub in va and never changed the plan
and he a diamond, the archers real
he love pain cause they love sh*t, it’s hard to feel
i feel his pain ’cause i sat in the dark itself
and wrote pain in delaware, tears, pa’s in jail, i’m ill
i swear boosters, death scarred me dog
now my little brother got the cartridge on, we here
like “see homie?”, with his posture on
he hated me in 8th grade, i had the goggles on
d*mn
like eyes puffing [?], count coming soon
so we puff the ace, when they cut the halogens we gon’ fluff the safe (immobiliare)
ain’t nun*ting, nothing safe
[verse 2: jay nice]
cut the tape, cover his face, we want the safe
i don’t know why these n*ggas is even rapping, slogs
all these actors and rats, i’m bout to trap them slogs
i had your friends asking questions like “what happened cuz?”
just know we ever have a grudge, i’m coming out for blood
just like dracula does, my accountants adding up
and we subtracting the scrubs that ain’t ever had no love
for a n*gga, for my time, lord forgive em
kept my distance, quarantined, formed a prison
in my mind i rewind, i really seen bricks
stepped on white squares, we gave em that billie jean kick
privately k!ll these geeks with the grip
or i could flip and just blaze you on cam, i really mean that
bagging up the reject 2
thinking me and con can relate, i’m a reject too
we fresh, new, dropping vvs jewels
i never move for bs, i tell the bs move (immobiliare)
[verse 3: conway]
little g keep his hammer tucked (he got it)
uh, i green light it, he gon’ blam you up (you know what’s up n*gga)
n*ggas gotta understand what i’m about
choppers in the back in case the jacks ran through my house (uh)
i’m treated like a king when i land in the south
30 bottles, let my shooters all stand on the couch (whoo)
still get my hands on a thousand grams in a drought
million man, drop these stuffed bands in your mouth, whoa (hahahaha)
they love me like cam when i’m out
carolina, i could have my dog cancel you out (finish it n*gga)
uh, tap dance on that brick (huh)
let it dry then bag it up and zips
where i’m from, they got drums on the sticks (brrrrrt)
ogs dressing like bums but they rich (facts)
when they come, imma come with the fifth (huh)
dumping till it sit back and ain’t nothing in the clip, oh
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