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sunday's best - seafood sam lyrics

[verse]
(hey, hey)
(where my baby momma at?)
i got a chick with a trick up her sleeve, it’s paying off
top tier calling out shots i pay the cost
n*gga you was [?]
real crocodile shirts i ain’t talking lacoste
sticks in the field i ain’t talking lacrosse
strike like a pit hit like in your jaw
late night with the missus got her popping her bra
then hit cane’s extra toast i don’t f*ck with the slaw
naw
i’m past the point of penny pinching
two things, never bully or be a victim
when it comes to the beef n*ggas turning to chickens
and pop off at the mouth now it’s the morgue they’re sitting
how you loving with a holiday heart
forgot your ego dressеd the part
trying to start a wave i ain’t fazed
i know it’s just a phasе
what’s a puddle to a shark
bible on my nightstand pistol by my favorite verse
i sleep less to gain more control of the earth
i got a he*rs* for sale n*gga just pick a church
[?] and be the first to burst
knock it off
rock in my hand like i’m hot sauce
lot 12 living to a new loft
bezel encrusted kryptonite cubes cost too much
bust if a fool touch
snap of my finger make the crew rush
not a shirt or a chain but the tool tucked
not a kingpin but i move enough
you ain’t never seen a style like it
thirsty for the flow now they all biting
calypso shooting boats how i throw lightning
i show up with the reapers now their soul hiding
bottom of the ninth i’m coming home sliding
usually cool but i condone violence
gq look and i got no stylist
new ragtop coupe and it got no mileage
n*gga

- seafood sam lyrics

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