Flux Pavilion, Jace, Curtis Williams - Saxophone Doom lyrics
[Flux Pavilion, Jace, Curtis Williams - Saxophone Doom lyrics]
Yo sweatbox hot, the block is on fire
Looks like Mom and Pop, that’s right I’m a
Dope head, drop out, drop head recliner
Get top, with no line, I’m top lining
No top boys in yo’ set, so stop lying
Kept the rhythm funky and fresh, for my body
6 gold chains on my neck, each sided
Beat boys fresh for the set, no one timing
Haters get up off me, I’m fuckin’ saucy
Michael Scott up in The Office
I’m fuckin’ bossy
Yardman gone wazze, you can’t stop me
Where de 'wana get it poppin’
Now what the problem
All my niggas got priors, they eaten’ pasta
All my bitches wear heels
And they talk proper
Clique wars, 5 mil, man it’s fuckin’ awesome
Clipboard, 5 mil, man it’s fuckin’ awesome
So tell me who gon’ fuckin’ stop us
Nah nigga, no body nah nigga, no body
Guarantee you that my gang on it!
I guarantee that the gang on it
Gave the girl the mic and she sang on it
Flux made a beat and I bang on it
Ass so fat, put a chain on it
Hit it so good, put my name on it
Hit it like I’m 'bout to put a ring on it
But then I put the gang on it
Ay, then I put the gang on it, Bitch!
Really way bigger than that
They can’t kill me
Really way bigger than rap
They can’t feel me
Know that I be smokin’ the pack
They can’t smell me
Niggas know it ain’t really shit
They can’t tell me
Ain’t a hoe I wanted to hit
That ain’t felt me
Y’all need to quit ridin’ dick
It ain’t healthy
See you sneak-dissing me still
You ain’t stealthy
And you at ya grandma crib, you ain’t wealthy
Hit the spot, then a bar, pop a bar loose
Put in a jar, do it all, sip goose
I been goin’ off, sayin’, "I ain’t hard"
And I’m lookin’ at a broad like
"damn bitch who?"
Yeah?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Aight let’s get it
Fuck what you think, it stick up
Bad yellow thang get my dick up
Hope you prepared
Hope you prepared for the switcha’
I like to mix drugs with my liqua’, Kill it!
I need them bags fast as I can, yeah
And I’mma go HAM 'Till Miss Piggy dough ham
Yeah, smoke meet the gram at every chance
At least when I can
I’mma go in, and switch it again, go!
Roll it up, gas in the living room
How a nigga been living
What he living through?
I’mma show these bitch niggas
What I’m finna do tell the industry
"Fuck 'em and they interviews!"
Got it (got it, got it, got it)
Got it (got it, got it, got it) alright
Alright
Looks like Mom and Pop, that’s right I’m a
Dope head, drop out, drop head recliner
Get top, with no line, I’m top lining
No top boys in yo’ set, so stop lying
Kept the rhythm funky and fresh, for my body
6 gold chains on my neck, each sided
Beat boys fresh for the set, no one timing
Haters get up off me, I’m fuckin’ saucy
Michael Scott up in The Office
I’m fuckin’ bossy
Yardman gone wazze, you can’t stop me
Where de 'wana get it poppin’
Now what the problem
All my niggas got priors, they eaten’ pasta
All my bitches wear heels
And they talk proper
Clique wars, 5 mil, man it’s fuckin’ awesome
Clipboard, 5 mil, man it’s fuckin’ awesome
So tell me who gon’ fuckin’ stop us
Nah nigga, no body nah nigga, no body
Guarantee you that my gang on it!
I guarantee that the gang on it
Gave the girl the mic and she sang on it
Flux made a beat and I bang on it
Ass so fat, put a chain on it
Hit it so good, put my name on it
Hit it like I’m 'bout to put a ring on it
But then I put the gang on it
Ay, then I put the gang on it, Bitch!
Really way bigger than that
They can’t kill me
Really way bigger than rap
They can’t feel me
Know that I be smokin’ the pack
They can’t smell me
Niggas know it ain’t really shit
They can’t tell me
Ain’t a hoe I wanted to hit
That ain’t felt me
Y’all need to quit ridin’ dick
It ain’t healthy
See you sneak-dissing me still
You ain’t stealthy
And you at ya grandma crib, you ain’t wealthy
Hit the spot, then a bar, pop a bar loose
Put in a jar, do it all, sip goose
I been goin’ off, sayin’, "I ain’t hard"
And I’m lookin’ at a broad like
"damn bitch who?"
Yeah?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Aight let’s get it
Fuck what you think, it stick up
Bad yellow thang get my dick up
Hope you prepared
Hope you prepared for the switcha’
I like to mix drugs with my liqua’, Kill it!
I need them bags fast as I can, yeah
And I’mma go HAM 'Till Miss Piggy dough ham
Yeah, smoke meet the gram at every chance
At least when I can
I’mma go in, and switch it again, go!
Roll it up, gas in the living room
How a nigga been living
What he living through?
I’mma show these bitch niggas
What I’m finna do tell the industry
"Fuck 'em and they interviews!"
Got it (got it, got it, got it)
Got it (got it, got it, got it) alright
Alright