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massage seats - madlib lyrics

[intro]
yeah, b*tch say what’s up, i said, uh
n*gga, flip a brick
b*tch ask me what’s up, i said, uh
pimp a b*tch
diamonds in the woodgrain wheel, n*gga
n*gga, kane

[verse 1]
golden state the roster, my garage deep
floating in the foreign on massage seats
yeah, keep, keep designer on a broad feet
i been water whippin’ earl simmons, all my dawgs eat
44 bulldog, all my dawgs bite
flexin’ amg, pushin’ redline through the red light
spot a p*ssy boy with a red dot, bust a headshot
they got us in the scope, all this bread talk really fed talk
yeah, n*gga, f*ck it, get your money on
still takin’ calls on this money phone
every sunday morning, i hit maurice with the moneygram
he was major league, i’m pitchin’ softball, underhand
these n*ggas don’t understand
this ain’t for soccer mamas, this for the underground
n*ggas was the sh*t last summer and now they numbers down
rappers gettin’ jacked for they jewels, i keep that tool with me
i go makaveli on hugh’s brothers, b*tch, who the menace?

[interlude]
yeah, kane, n*gga
and i was hittin’ b*tches, i’m talkin’ ’bout
i was hittin’ r and b b*tches
when a n*gga was broke and sh*t, you know what i’m sayin’, n*gga?
you know what i’m sayin’?
platinum b*tches, you know what i mean?
b*tches on the charts, you feel me? yeah
you know what i mean, not just really big b*tches tryna get on, you know what i’m sayin’?
yeah, kane season

[verse 2]
yeah, n*gga, f*ck it, get your money on
still takin’ calls on this money phone (yo, what up?)
every sunday morning, keshia hit me with the moneygram
touchdown in the chi and make that p*ssy do the money dance
i should have a tux on in this b*tch, me and money make holy matrimony
shot caller, put them shooters on you like d’antoni
top dollar, lock me up and i make the bond, no
big baller, father, you my son like lonzo (b*tch)
entertainer with a lot of trap contacts
we pushin’ packs ’cause in this rap, it ain’t no max contracts
with fifty on a n*gga head, that’s a trap contract
and catch him with a car full and push they whole sh*t back
seats in the 600, push they whole sh*t back
i flip a flow and do a show and get the whole clique racks, b*tch
whippin’ earl simmons, all my dawgs eat
golden state the roster, my garage deep
floating in the foreign on massage seats

[outro]
yeah, see, you gotta see, n*gga, you know, you gotta understand (yeah)
i’m from gary, n*ggas ain’t used to no, no foreign cars, you know what i’m sayin’? (f*ck n*gga)
like, i remember when
when that n*gga ced came through with the
c, c230 or some sh*t, c or e class, some sh*t
i’m like “n*gga? get out that motherf*ckin’ auntie benz, n*gga”

- madlib lyrics

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