GDP - Black Guys in France lyrics
[GDP - Black Guys in France lyrics]
Fuck a throwback jam, I'm a grown ass man
That'll still flash on you like
A bone graft scan when they be like "Oh
Slangcorp - I know that band"
But, I'll shit all on your hood
Like I own that land
Soul survivor, survivor sole
You can Lamborghini Mercy all them
Lies you've sold but
Lord have mercy my time's so close
I can smell it in the air and
I feel it in my bones
You see it on my face and you
Hear it in my flows all the
Pain in my voice and the rage in my foes, we
Life without parole controversial
Yall rather sell raps for
Bud light commercials and
Light the purple, but bitch you ain't Cam'ron
You ain't a A&R, you just put your man on
Black guys in France changing tampons
Slangcorp run a fucking train on your grandma
G iller than a Suge Knight
Russ Simmons posse cut
Who else on the track? Probably Puff
Like if the blunt's laced - probably Dust
And if I ain't get back about your
Beats it's cause it probably sucks
And I'm sorry but
I'm commandeering vehicles like DMX party Up!
With some gnarly sluts
Shorty ass so big the car
Door could hardly shut
What a rap martyr does - eat
Your fucking ghostwriter bars for lunch
E-z Widers, cigars and blunts
Smoking loud pack got tar for lungs, succumb
I moved to Brooknam cause that's
Where the bitches is at
Them naive bitches all pissed at their dad
Like is it me or just as his staff
Yall only talk hard on an internet chat
Ya girl a bird - yeah a chicken in fact
She gets stole like Yogi bear's picnic basket
Kids'll get blasted, kicks'll get ran quick
G get daps for his infinite rapsshiiiiatt
It's nothin, it's easy
I close my eyes and justfuckin I just do it
That's my shit though
Fuck a throwback at noon
G'll roll back your crew
Verbal abuse'll beat your soul
Black and blue, uh
Soul survivor, survivor sole
Motherfuck an email dog see me at a
Show with them rhymes you stole
From my lines and no-
I ain't spittin on your album
'less you signed at dough
I left Philly cause the
Streets was kinda chilly
With sleaze kinda filthy all this E is trying
To kill me but I doubt that
Sour diesel and loud pack
Vomit over dubstep beats and
Now you found trap
Eating off my scraps like how's that?
Black guys, Paris in flames
Yeah - douse that
Fuck it, no one's fuckin with me this year
No one's fuckin with me this
Year on some emcee shit
I promise, I swear to god
GDP - it comes easy to me
The shit comes easy to me
Excuse my French but I'm in New York
(He's a monster)
That'll still flash on you like
A bone graft scan when they be like "Oh
Slangcorp - I know that band"
But, I'll shit all on your hood
Like I own that land
Soul survivor, survivor sole
You can Lamborghini Mercy all them
Lies you've sold but
Lord have mercy my time's so close
I can smell it in the air and
I feel it in my bones
You see it on my face and you
Hear it in my flows all the
Pain in my voice and the rage in my foes, we
Life without parole controversial
Yall rather sell raps for
Bud light commercials and
Light the purple, but bitch you ain't Cam'ron
You ain't a A&R, you just put your man on
Black guys in France changing tampons
Slangcorp run a fucking train on your grandma
G iller than a Suge Knight
Russ Simmons posse cut
Who else on the track? Probably Puff
Like if the blunt's laced - probably Dust
And if I ain't get back about your
Beats it's cause it probably sucks
And I'm sorry but
I'm commandeering vehicles like DMX party Up!
With some gnarly sluts
Shorty ass so big the car
Door could hardly shut
What a rap martyr does - eat
Your fucking ghostwriter bars for lunch
E-z Widers, cigars and blunts
Smoking loud pack got tar for lungs, succumb
I moved to Brooknam cause that's
Where the bitches is at
Them naive bitches all pissed at their dad
Like is it me or just as his staff
Yall only talk hard on an internet chat
Ya girl a bird - yeah a chicken in fact
She gets stole like Yogi bear's picnic basket
Kids'll get blasted, kicks'll get ran quick
G get daps for his infinite rapsshiiiiatt
It's nothin, it's easy
I close my eyes and justfuckin I just do it
That's my shit though
Fuck a throwback at noon
G'll roll back your crew
Verbal abuse'll beat your soul
Black and blue, uh
Soul survivor, survivor sole
Motherfuck an email dog see me at a
Show with them rhymes you stole
From my lines and no-
I ain't spittin on your album
'less you signed at dough
I left Philly cause the
Streets was kinda chilly
With sleaze kinda filthy all this E is trying
To kill me but I doubt that
Sour diesel and loud pack
Vomit over dubstep beats and
Now you found trap
Eating off my scraps like how's that?
Black guys, Paris in flames
Yeah - douse that
Fuck it, no one's fuckin with me this year
No one's fuckin with me this
Year on some emcee shit
I promise, I swear to god
GDP - it comes easy to me
The shit comes easy to me
Excuse my French but I'm in New York
(He's a monster)