J.R. Writer, 40 Cal - Overdrive lyrics
[J.R. Writer, 40 Cal - Overdrive lyrics]
It's getting cold lets hit Pelle
I need ten leathers
Prick it's a fact I trick not a stack
Walk right up in the showroom give me a rap
Look I do commercials for them
I ain't giving them jack
Matter of fact get to the back
Find this one in black
Soon as you find this one in
White thats it it's a wrap
Then I give him some dap and
Skip to the lac thats that
Dummy I rides and front on these guys
Who wanna get high but ain't
Got the money to fly
I tour G-4's just to get the best of life
You extra tight on the back
Of a connecting flight
I was born a spitta you're
Not at all a thriller
We watch your videos like look
At this corny nigga
Ask your mother youngin she
Just love the gunnin
Yeah I'm in the door but the
Whore keep me up and coming
Now the ducking from me your
Whole team is garbage
But back to ya mom she let
My whole team menage it
Me and my man tag up like a graffiti artist
Out in the public we should
Have caught graffiti charges
Topped off quick cause R get impatient
Plus she ain't that bad of
A Barbie to be chasing
She slob me till I'm shaking aching
Fatigue on her knees no standing
Like a parking regulation
I'm harder than the pavement paving
What you tracks are headed
You couldn't get that weight
Off with some calistenics
I put the track in medic nigga who is better
After my first eight sit it on the stretcher
I skid off with your heffa
Who sit upon the pecker
My earrings looking like they done
Sent them from the mecca
Thats ocean blue ho it's true I
Do what I suppose to do
What I had to throw is oop
This'll cost a rose or two
I'm that coke or fry something
For your nose to try
JR Writer get ready to go in overdrive
The spot pumping they coming to buy raw
Cop the gators crocodile hunter would die for
Rush the club bouncing out
Fronting on five more
Fuck'em ride around run in the side door
I'm who the dimes call chasing a thug
Back of the mansion we living
Out flavor of love
Cause when I be in the spot
They say it's a flood
You think I roll with indians the
Way it rain in the club
Twenties Fifties Benjies ten G's official
You throwing up singles ya'll
Niggas making it drizzle
I'm what you call thug
Get two door porsche love
Spell nice like the initials of
The new york sports club
I told you they washed up
What you call soft scrub
Scarface jacuzzi while you crawl
In a small tub
I'm with the young niggas young
Joc to young dro
Not the new jay-z but the young hov
Young jeezy to the young mase
So I had no choice to put on my man young ace
Young one not the young guns
Where the dum dums go blum blum
From the gutta where I come from
Got bills that bill for real for real
My whip cost seven digit's thats
A meal on wheels
But, it's not a food truck is
It the feel for shields
Seeing reflection on the bent
Through the silver grill
With the tech work I'm riding
I'm a expert at wildin
Whole city behind me like my network verizon
Head first sweat shirt bed nurse beside him
Red dirt dead jerk with
Lead squirting out him