D1 (Supergroup) - Temple City Freestyle lyrics
[D1 Supergroup - Temple City Freestyle lyrics]
Pulled up with my bitch
I blew a fuckin' bag at Neiman
If you talking slimy
We gon' pull up and be beamin'
Yeah, you know the gang run it up, yeah we D1
I ain't got no papers
You got 20? Bitch I'll smoke 'em
Pulled up with my bitch
I blew a fuckin' bag at Neiman
If you talking slimy
We gon' pull up and be beamin'
Yeah, you know the gang run it up, yeah we D1
I ain't got no papers
You got 20? Bitch I'll smoke 'em
Ten racks minimum if you wanna talk to me
Got my bands up at the age of seventeen
Bitch you took a hit
How the fuck are you geeked?
In love with the money
When I rack it I get geeked
You won't understand it
Like from other planets
The shit you post is trashy, you had
We been had it we making money, stack it
That shit been a habit i can't even manage
Sometimes I think I planned it
We came empty handed and left
With all the cash, bitch
My money got amounts, yeah i just run it up
Lil' bitch you can't hold it
Only on my level
I can't feel none of you posers
Fuckin' on a bitch, heard she thirty
She my OG never pay for pussy, bougie dick
These hoes on me smoking on that strong
Tell your plug he need that protein
I just rolled that wood and blowed that
Bitch up in the morning sun
Sunroof, something got my neck on
Never moving
Too quick, scuffing up on my new McNairy's
Fuckin' with my money, bitch
Leave you bleeding like it's Carrie
Got that Audemar baguette
Serve me up just like spaghetti
I got big dope, baby, Mary Jane
Let's get married
I got homies on the coast selling dope
Moving i got woadies with the Tom
Talking shoes with no laces
I just lay up at the crib, smokin' pack
Getting faded
Tell that lil' bitch to go
And get his bands up
Tell that lil' bitch to go
And get his fans up
Pull up, DSM, know I got my brands up
Pull up, gang and them, flexin'
They can't stand us, yeah, yeah
Now that I'm on, Gucci cologne
Now that I'm on, they all want some
Now they want some
I don't do the flexin', cash
I still want some
You at Neiman window shoppin', you a bum
D1, D1, do you really need one?
Me and my bros, gonna shoot the gun
Getting lot of racks, I swear this is fun
But I stay out of that
Joking, but I act laid back
I'm not joking, when I get really mad
See it in your eyes, then you're getting sad
Hop off the plane, making hit's
Bitch it's nothing
Why you talking like you're
Gonna do something?
Yeah, you not doing shit, yeah, you bluffing
So much drip in the crib, yeah, we flooding
Yeah, wish this shit could last forever
Yeah, everyday I'm doing better
Yeah, eyes on us when we answer
Think you can be like us? No, not ever
I blew a fuckin' bag at Neiman
If you talking slimy
We gon' pull up and be beamin'
Yeah, you know the gang run it up, yeah we D1
I ain't got no papers
You got 20? Bitch I'll smoke 'em
Pulled up with my bitch
I blew a fuckin' bag at Neiman
If you talking slimy
We gon' pull up and be beamin'
Yeah, you know the gang run it up, yeah we D1
I ain't got no papers
You got 20? Bitch I'll smoke 'em
Ten racks minimum if you wanna talk to me
Got my bands up at the age of seventeen
Bitch you took a hit
How the fuck are you geeked?
In love with the money
When I rack it I get geeked
You won't understand it
Like from other planets
The shit you post is trashy, you had
We been had it we making money, stack it
That shit been a habit i can't even manage
Sometimes I think I planned it
We came empty handed and left
With all the cash, bitch
My money got amounts, yeah i just run it up
Lil' bitch you can't hold it
Only on my level
I can't feel none of you posers
Fuckin' on a bitch, heard she thirty
She my OG never pay for pussy, bougie dick
These hoes on me smoking on that strong
Tell your plug he need that protein
I just rolled that wood and blowed that
Bitch up in the morning sun
Sunroof, something got my neck on
Never moving
Too quick, scuffing up on my new McNairy's
Fuckin' with my money, bitch
Leave you bleeding like it's Carrie
Got that Audemar baguette
Serve me up just like spaghetti
I got big dope, baby, Mary Jane
Let's get married
I got homies on the coast selling dope
Moving i got woadies with the Tom
Talking shoes with no laces
I just lay up at the crib, smokin' pack
Getting faded
Tell that lil' bitch to go
And get his bands up
Tell that lil' bitch to go
And get his fans up
Pull up, DSM, know I got my brands up
Pull up, gang and them, flexin'
They can't stand us, yeah, yeah
Now that I'm on, Gucci cologne
Now that I'm on, they all want some
Now they want some
I don't do the flexin', cash
I still want some
You at Neiman window shoppin', you a bum
D1, D1, do you really need one?
Me and my bros, gonna shoot the gun
Getting lot of racks, I swear this is fun
But I stay out of that
Joking, but I act laid back
I'm not joking, when I get really mad
See it in your eyes, then you're getting sad
Hop off the plane, making hit's
Bitch it's nothing
Why you talking like you're
Gonna do something?
Yeah, you not doing shit, yeah, you bluffing
So much drip in the crib, yeah, we flooding
Yeah, wish this shit could last forever
Yeah, everyday I'm doing better
Yeah, eyes on us when we answer
Think you can be like us? No, not ever