hype (flockmix) - waka flocka flame lyrics
[intro]
flockmix
i tell these n-gg-s take notes, man
i can’t rap volume 2
n-gg- like, “f-ck graduating,“ n-gg- sellin’ c-ke
that’s a f-cked up logic, man
and these hoes, right, f-ckin’ for new bags
stealin’ swag
[verse 1]
you lame rappers, views from a real piru
married to the game, “i do”
i’m ridin’ through in that chicken coop
‘dem birds in it when i’m slidin’ through
can’t finesse a brick like i do
you lil n-gg-s can’t walk a mile in my footsteps
p-ssy, we don’t wear the same size shoe
punch him in his face, feed him chicken soup
surgeries in that inst-tute
record his -ss while i whoop his -ss
and put it on my alb-m as the interlude
my circle tighter than an inner tube
always talkin’, what you finna do?
i think you lames h-t your pinnacle
rapper on too many chemicals
where the f-ck is y’all principles?
this brick squad, i’m the general
middle finger grab my genitals
why the f-ck my niece in the news?
always talkin’, “what flocka doin’?”
always talkin’, “what waka doin’?”
countin’ money, b-tch i’m thumbing through it
you got a problem, b-tch i’m comin’ to it
pullin’ up with a couple shooters
i could give a f-ck about this f-ckin’ music
i’ll f-ck you up and there’s nothin’ to it
whole squad ridin’ like a f-ckin’ buick
i know i’m winning but i f-ckin’ lose it
and beat the case cause my lawyer jewish
grimy n-gg- came from the sewage
put them hands on you like lenny lewis
really whip these sh-ts if you diss me, b-tch
then it’s a wrap like christmas gifts
it’s arithmetic, i’ma hit the lick
we gon sn-tch the bag, then split the chips
out in colorado, go and f-ck with spence
vbs is on me, never tuck it in
the haters out, but the love is in
makin’ major flips like above the rim (flex!)
f-ckin’ up the dough cause i can’t cook
so i made a million on facebook
so underrated, feel like westbrook
i’m runnin’ plays, it’s textbook
coupla rappers solid but the rest shook
they say i can’t rap, so i came back
with dumb punchlines, gave ’em left hooks
back from the dead, i’m jon snow
toe tag him, he a john doe
i feel like young scooter, no convo
watch out for snakes, keep the lawn mowed
why these n-gg-s thinkin’ that they pablo?
cause they watched an episode of narcos
this is real life, shotta, f-ck flows
and you lyrical n-gg-s
caught a case now you spiritual, n-gg-s?
the feds put some fear in you, n-gg-?
what they put years on you, n-gg-?
yo i see a tear droppin, n-gg-?
told chance to teardrop that n-gg-
i take the chair, my n-gg-
loyalty real, my n-gg-
yo (waka!)
[outro]
f-ck wrong with these n-gg-s, man?
just turned 30, man
so how old you think your favorite rapper is, man?
i was listenin’ to n-gg-s in middle school
move over, grandaddy
squad, flockaveli 2
gang gang (crew!)
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