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one night - so, supreme lyrics

uh, i’m on the road again, just me and my friends
in the all the white benz with the twenty twins
pardon my synonyms, i’m so different
do a verse for the kids that’s born to sin again
hit them with a sermon, make the kids wanna listen again
and again, i make mary wanna birth us
the same reason why we got her son in churches
and every sunday we go and give him worship
but every other day we gotta go and put the work up
thats what molly said, next thing you know the skirt’s up
and then i’m up, on the microphone
in the studio, with a doobie tho, and a booty pole
no lights, that’s too far from a movie though
and one night, is too deep for the intro
and cold nights, i need a coat for the winter
i give her the wood, and now she got a splinter
hit her in her backsp-ce, now i gotta enter
but i ain’t strapped up so now she has a temper
but i ain’t mad though, cus i’m contemplating
on the same statement that got me into this situation
looking at girls and satan and seeing which one would take me
but lately i’ve been on the corner
sipping arizonas, second-hand smoking to marijuana
and throwing shade to all the haters that want to doubt me
cus when i make it i don’t know what i’d do without me
cus i’m proudly, californicating in vegas
with dead presidents and two franklins
with the courtesy of me, rolling up weed for curren$y
in the all black leather seat bentley
pardon my -ssonance, my flow is atomic
bars dropped like the soap on the floor of the shower
the only difference is i stick it in the back of my album
give them beats from don, bet they throw in the towel
60 minutes of rap, and 1 hour of wack
the only difference is them minutes gone stab you in the back
like bishop with the juice or mack with the mac
in the back, on the mac, puffin pack
peel it back, oh snap, got that, tote straps
-gunshots- got that, oh man, who that, it be supreme on the track just doing the nasty
catch me on your fm, not the one asking
rapping is a gift, ha im the one wrapping
presents all up in your presence, yeah ‘cus i’m santa claus
beat the beat up have it shaking like a r-t-rd
i’m about to lose myself like these white girls and v-cards
graduated from the pavement, yeah boy i’m street smart
momma always told me a’s and b’s
but daddy always told me a yo b smart
so now i tend to throw 2s like the drums are
add a 3 and i’m balling like marcus smart
here to write my thoughts, critics say the pen is really real
i’m here to tell my soul, leave shoe prints on the pencil
read the bible under oath knowing imma go to h-ll
cus i only mess with god so tell jacob that i israel
(yeah) i’m so cliché i think i need a hastag
flowing off the brain, so i blow up, baghdad
yeah i’m doing numbers check the stats bruh, aftermath
lost in las vegas but the studio’s attended
oh you want to beef?, all i know is i will fin it
and yeah that’s a bet (abet), (look it up) -ssistance (never mind)
oh my god, i’m so gifted
i bet i could use my rap names in a sentence
supreme so, supreme, i remind you of the trillest
beat the beat up, oh he’s gifted like christmas
all i see is fake rappers, hmmm i got a sixth sense
getting paid by the cents (sense), so i’m paid six cents
and i’m suicide pr-ne, so its 666
catch me playing poker with apollo in apollo
“what you call that?”, sun chips
yeah you don’t even got to ask me
i step up to the mic putting jordan in the backseat
i got the game on lock, and if it ain’t fair, call a taxi
but please don’t ask me

- so supreme lyrics

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