Mittens Up (feat. Elzhi & Dusty McFly)

Like a waterfall in slow motion (Alright)
Like a map with no ocean
(Bei Maejor, Southfield, Elzhi & McFly)
I'm still tryna to do it big for my home town
When I'm back we can go all night
Let me see those mittens up
Mittens up in the sky
Let em clear my throat uh
Somebody take my coat alright
Got the to the game oh good
I've been running around down givin
Em on the fake number apologies for that
(I'm sorry) I gotta keep my suitcase packed
You can add it to the arsenal
Kobain Donnie Darko flow
Hey lady, I didn't catch your name lady
Let me do it to you good all night
Cause the nose ring might as
Well be a bulls eye let me clear my throat
The goal was to go and get Scott Storch doe
And stay away from Scott Storch clothes
Have I done yet not quite
I'm back in your city
Never the same chick twice
Damn homie in high school you
Was the man homie damn, fuck happen to you
All my plaques just sittin in the closet
Cause I ain't have time to get in no spot yet
Don't I just glide on the beat
Ain't I so smooth on that motherfucka bingo
My mixtape shit going harder than your single
Let me clear my throat
What up doe? Elzhi broadcasting live from
The district motown, Great Lakes
Detroit stand up!
Could we be called the Motor City
Cause we're living in the fast lane?
Get gas drivin a flash all of out cash gain
May die tryin to stay fly
Like a crashed plane tryin to get pass pain
Doctor's splash rain on gash
Within your mass brain from a blast
Now your ass slain
The whole hood is high on, pill, glass
'caine
With many stuck, needles in they last vein
Sharp as a tuxedo when they
Clash in upper class Spain
And I ain't bullshittin'
The wolves gettin' inside of this
Wool mitten so cold (Alright)
They growin' up near these
Auto industry entities
You instantly keep an eye on your role
Let me clear my throat
D-town Westside d-town Eastside
Look, look dirty blood
Mittens up, free wine, RIP
Blade, Bitches fuck
Off our diamond Cartier shades
We call them buffs sybolize
When we gettin paid some niggas took
Some act though and wind in the grave
But look, i still love ice in my rollie
(yeah) love my niggas posey (uh)
Love nights at the coney (yeah)
When I'm drunk off the rosie
Texting a cold ho
Telling her that i love her
But i really don't, doe
Let me clear my throat
What up doe? What up doe?
Detroit stand up 313 is in the building
Here we go yeah