TLC

[Intro: Action Bronson] It's me See when you have this type of hair on your head man (I got prefect symetry) You get treated a certain type of way Pull up on the 37 foot boat Tan all year I hop out like I ain't shit Three fifth flannel on, summertime Straight up motherfucker Yeah, you ain't shit [Verse 1: Action Bronson] Dump Dump, Impalas jump, you get polished up Lines get drawn in the powder This shit look like new england clam chowder The Uzi singing from the tower Stoned singing in the shower My phone rings one thousand times an hour Shit, I used to pitch a hundred miles an hour Candy Maldonado Candy Eldorado Asics with the purple toe I met a bitch today who said my name is Serpico I own shit, no carnote Convos with Carlos Hundred thousand on the Cardinals Ain't a motherfucking cold to bring the quill to bring the heating pad You Gotta understand you're dealing with some heathen, jack... [Verse 2: A$ton Matthews] Our sward the virgin Suburban she do the dirt, do the dirt I served the earth in the surface I’ll put your brain where that curb is No bricks, no chips, then your friend gonna lose service The word is to turn up, too turnt for them turbans, get curtains Lights out Better trap when the mice out Cut throat when that price out, what's your life 'bout? And nobody say, forty cal body ache Flat line to get the shit bag, take a potty break Better lock the gate for your mommy's sake Fuck boy, pick and roll, gun and dish But you know you ain’t running shit, but you're good with the lead, word Til the Tec squirt, expect dirt Lions, tigers, bears oh my Who let the zoo loose? The 4 4 the .. before Click clack, bang bang Who you? But we can line it up, huh Pop the chunk, drop 'em in the trunk Ridin' around my city dog I'm Big Poppa Pump, motherfucker [Interlude] You already know what time it is, slime Go get your mouth hit with a can a beer and all that y'heard Stone cold shit, my G Hannn [Verse 3: Zombie Juice] Spittin' and rippin' You niggas inferior I came from the game like I'm price on the mic But I’m nicer than Mike, Jackson or Jordan Flow so sick like aroma from a corpse It's Aston Matthews Got a shovel and gash you Face covered in ashes, flames covered in acid What a lonely bastard I’m a lonely bastard but I know some magic And how to make some grams flip Nigga is a loan Head with the 45th flight In the dirt in the earth, 6 feet away Smoke more green, more murder Psychologic. death is certain Democracy never stopping We feelin’ like 'Pac all honesty Blood-line's strictly poverty Zombie niggas should honor thee [Verse 4: Meechy Darko] Mind games are my games I rearrange your mind frame My mind chain, flow insane, smoke chem strains I'm Cobain and gold fangs Guns go bang Weed so loud My ears ring Stay around wax like earbuds And I'm high dog, Air Bud (woof) There goes the sound of the K 9 in your face Get shot, broad day Latex gloves Fuck forensics Straight headshots [?] That murder game, them car chases We rev up, no DMC Them cutthroats, dead niggas Strapped up in that GMC, holla [Outro: A$AP Bari and A$AP Yams] What's brackin, nigga? A$ton Matthews is brackin, nigga What's brackin’ nigga, cutthroat what's brackin, nigga A$AP what's brackin, nigga Stone cold stuntin on one of you niggas You and your bitch, nigga If you think I’m talking to you, yeah I’m talking to you nigga This a'int no diss song, nigga Step your brackets up, nigga Niggas out there drinking Qualitest Hi-Techin ass niggas You niggas is two lies away from giving me a fucking headache You motherfuckers be pouring up a one and a two liter That's not a three liter, nigga Lamborghinis fucking pouring out ashes on you niggas Burning cigarettes on niggas' foreheads We gon' body in every state, nigga Respect the movement, nigga Get your cutthroat, nigga Yeaah I'm standing at a 45 degree angle at all times Study your lessons, bitch Stop eating that pork, too Y'heard