Drab (feat. Rome Streetz)

Check check check check 1 2 Let me talk my shit Let me vividly paint my lifestyle for like the fuckin past decade and a half Shit I need a job Thank god for rap though 1, 2 How I salsa wit it 1, 2 How the sauce ah hit em So smoove how I'm bossy wit it They tried to throw me away but I’m found like lost equipment 4 Trips never lost a shipment Different motives if we talking bidness Betta come strong if you want it all We cuh talk specifics If it’s filth I mastered physics 4 Lines on the table had her kneeling like she all religious Made the bitch clean the whole plate She ain’t washing dishes S’Alotta fish thats on er lippage So high she over talked her limit I cuh smell the cigarettes on her breath in every sentence Feeling noxious wit her The vibe drab like and awful picture I came for head Instead a sold a ball while watching Christian Slater in a mobster picture I’m out this bitch through talkin witcha Bitch where the head at So filthy when we walk it Not guilty when we talk it White lines when we chalk it Baby nines in the pocket That’s for close range aim We never miss a target Brought it back in a car kit Sold mines in the starship No step no garbage Had em comin back plenty time day time lunch lines looking like targets