my son - retro messiah lyrics
[introducing dialog]
retro!
keep on flexin’ those muscles!
[hook – retro messiah]
n-gga bit my swag. i should call you my son
gold on my neck. sh-t shine the sun
.45 on my hip. buss that b-tch and you gon’ run
f-ckin’ on ya b-tch: that’s the sh-t i do for fun
countin’ up the money all day long
b-tch, a lotto blunt; yeah, i’m smokin’ on that strong
call yo b-tch a dog ‘cause she only want the bone
hi-tech trappin’. drop it off with a drone
[verse 1 – retro messiah]
please bag back. you can’t hit my gas pack
rollin’ skimp blunts; that’s that sh-t i laugh at
pourin’ hi-tech like a f-ckin’ lab rat
smoke yo b-tch out just because her -ss fat
skateboard swag; i feel like rodney mullen
i’on give a f-ck. i’ll slap ya -ss out in public
check my chain out, but n-gga, please don’t touch it
my ratchet like a ratchet b-tch the way it get the bussin’
all these n-ggas cuffin’ all these broke -ss hoes
only thing i’m worried ‘bout is a bankroll
b-tches be broke steady thinkin’ they a goddess
get some f-ckin’ money, hoe and stop actin’ childish
[hook – retro messiah]
n-gga bit my swag. i should call you my son
gold on my neck. sh-t shine the sun
.45 on my hip. buss that b-tch and you gon’ run
f-ckin’ on ya b-tch: that’s the sh-t i do for fun
countin’ up the money all day long
b-tch, a lotto blunt; yeah, i’m smokin’ on that strong
call yo b-tch a dog ‘cause she only want the bone
hi-tech trappin’. drop it off with a drone
[verse 2 – yung texaco]
ayy! big dope smokin’. i said f-ck my p.o
and i’m big face countin’. b-tch it’s what i d-o
i done hit a couple stains. but don’t n0body know
i keep sticks in my terrain. keep a chop at the do’
we don’t do sneak diss
that ain’t street sh-t
we just pull up and eat sh-t
me and my n-ggas ride with udonis
swear that we be on that heat sh-t
i’m with the trees lit
in a flee fit
mackin’ on a lil’ freak b-tch
she said i’m the flyest she ever seen
everything i got on cost a fee
hop in a fast car then speed
flexed on whip; boy, you usin’ yo feet
hop out the ghast, then i hop on the beat
i was 13 when i hopped in the streets
i was 14 when i hopped in the cheeks
ride for my dog ‘cause my dog ride for me
i don’t wanna be n0body but me
“ya name texaco?”—-“what?”
that’s a d-mn enemy
[hook – retro messiah]
n-gga bit my swag. i should call you my son
gold on my neck. sh-t shine the sun
.45 on my hip. buss that b-tch and you gon’ run
f-ckin’ on ya b-tch: that’s the sh-t i do for fun
countin’ up the money all day long
b-tch, a lotto blunt; yeah, i’m smokin’ on that strong
call yo b-tch a dog ‘cause she only want the bone
hi-tech trappin’. drop it off with a drone
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