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saxman - whyae lyrics

sad face sax man got yams
mad taste, lax pace, pots pans, godd*mn
racks placed, ass shake, up down, ain’t a scam
but all the players throwing cash, put on my jam

sad face sax man got yams
mad taste, lax pace, pots pans, godd*mn
racks placed, ass shake, up down, ain’t a scam
but all the players throwing cash, b*tch

it’s a whyae joint ain’t no thing a sham
can’t both ping the lan
paint hope as a plan

won’t count on it because i’m ballin
do what i can!

i’m bolt running sh*t and u just crawling fam
this a slapper, tongue in cheek
t**th chatter
running just like my obliques don’t matter

p*ss on high hats like sh*t on these rappers
in the thrift when marty copped that kappa
keep it no cap, captain
monaco to manhattan
leave the best battered
can’t compete with stanzas from me
semblancе of sanity
scaring me to be the bеst i could be
past selves?
leave em on the ground, lettem leak
i’ma show you now just what i’d like to see
cc me, with 50 bands, curb on dvd
no murder in the streets
and no more police
mobilize the freaks
ready the geeks
we prepared to tweak
wait til’ you see
like nothing ever witnessed
“no frowning, looking impish
we’re crowning a new religion”
crown a new religion

like nothing ever witnessed
“no frowning, looking impish
we’re crowning a new religion”
crown a new religion

sl!ckness symptomatic of this sickness
simply, i must be on my pimp sh*t
backsl!ck, robbin
dinero, under mattress
hat trick to a zero
what’s a goon to a gat, b*tch
i’ve held ratchets
big enough to make a fat mother f*cker like me do a backflip
tactics leave you faceless
while i face this spliff
me and patrick
turned zeroes to ones
like magic
binary, ones blows ohs like white kids
tristate zooming only if ya not triflin’
simon says, bump my sh*t to enlighten
everybody dance while rappers get frightened
sike, they already dead
zip em up like k shine said
3 in the chest and 1 in the head
aaron hernandez
murder, murder, murder
murder, murder, murder
whyae’s the best
f*ck whoever you heard of
never vulture the culture
it’s far too important
not from earth, but i’m somewhere in orbit
win but never forfeit
morbidly dedicated
overly medicated
i ain’t have a bas*m*nt
i came from the pavement
patient
dope always hard enough
never had to lace it
save it i’m hotter than satan saving graces

sad face sax man got yams
mad taste, lax pace, pots pans, godd*mn
racks placed, ass shake, up down, ain’t a scam
but all the players throwing cash, put on my jam

- whyae lyrics

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