Symba - Symba Freestyle (LA Leakers Freestyle #104) lyrics
[Symba - Symba Freestyle LA Leakers Freestyle #104 lyrics]
Yes, yes, yes
LA Leakers, Justin Credible, DJ Sourmilk
And the East Bay done stepped
Into the LA Leakers studio
They let a motherfucker from Antioch
Make it to the Leakers
Y'all done fucked up now
Symba is here to set a tone baby
BEAT 1 - Nas' 'Oochie Wally' Instrumental
Check alright, feel me on this J
I say, look
With so much to say where should I start
They finally let the best kept
Secret come out the vault
I played my part and I
Never took shit to heart
So now that I got my time
You nis gon let me talk
I'm young but I seen a lot
At 16 I watched the feds hit the
Spot and run in my mommy's restaurant
I watched my cuz sniff dope
Through a neti pot
This why I care less about
These rappers turned debutants
I was independent at 14 when Webby dropped
Having rap battles with and Fats in Antioch
With one eye on the prize like Fetty Wap
I went into a pool of money
And did a belly flop ay J
I was on the phone with
Wallo and he was telling
Me to watch out for these hoes I knock
I had to tell him that I ain't no ni who
Just started getting pussy cause
His song got hot
I had a car before I had a daydream
I had a crib before I knew how
To cook when I was like 18
Most nights it was top ramen and baked beans
But I done thug it out
Before asking moms for anything
Now I'm in the hills with no service
Tryna dodge bitches who be
Fucking without a purpose
I will never let a woman make me feel less of
A man because I don't wanna buy her a Birkin
She send me back to the streets and I
Send you back to your momma house
Happy hour dining
Free drinks and back to your momma couch
You just want a ni with
Status to feel established
But there ain't enough room in this
Foreign for all your baggage
There's a certain addiction with nis
And tricking and making
It hard for women to tell who isn't
See you sorta Jordan and Pippen
You score and assist 'em
I'm like Stockton and Malone
Once I pick 'em imma roll
I'm gon' hit them and get gone
I know that probably wrong
But I married this money and I
Can't break a happy home
We bout to drop a tape so
It's time I set the tone
You got me in my zone, but Harry O, we on
Symba, hold on!
Where the fire extinguishers out here man
I ain't done
I tell 'em, how do I say
Ay, to all y'all in my DM about a feature
I'm only giving verses for the Leakers
I done work too hard to give verses this hard
For nis who budget can't cover my sneakers
Lord Jesus my bars on some vet shit
Rookie of the Year
I been on my Lewis Belt shit
They tell me slow it down for a second
But I'm like a crackhead who don't listen
I just can't help it the mood on Mamba
Look how he been in the genre
He's so Big Poppa
Who else could make 8 different
Flows through an entendre
I can double 'em, I can triple 'em
I can chop 'em i can speed the flow up
Slow 'em down and swap
I can pretty much do anything but stop
I come from a place where they
Hate to see you on top
But love on you on the block
And once you start getting money they
Look at you like an opp
My momma always said treat the
Janitor like a boss
Cause everybody plays a role to keep
You from taking a loss honesty is preferred
Respect is what you earn
And trust is something you gain
When loyalty is returned
I'm out in Turks plotting on
Property in the Burbs tryin not to splurge
And get the ghetto back from the nerds
This billion dollar vision
That's word to my ni Bird
Can't be behind gates from a selfish mistake
These nis waitin till it's too
Late to do straight
They try to recycle the same
People that they threw away
Never get paper to turn plastic
Bottle your actions and chasing your
Satisfaction through bitches reactions
Gimme another one
LA Leakers, Justin Credible, DJ Sourmilk
And the East Bay done stepped
Into the LA Leakers studio
They let a motherfucker from Antioch
Make it to the Leakers
Y'all done fucked up now
Symba is here to set a tone baby
BEAT 1 - Nas' 'Oochie Wally' Instrumental
Check alright, feel me on this J
I say, look
With so much to say where should I start
They finally let the best kept
Secret come out the vault
I played my part and I
Never took shit to heart
So now that I got my time
You nis gon let me talk
I'm young but I seen a lot
At 16 I watched the feds hit the
Spot and run in my mommy's restaurant
I watched my cuz sniff dope
Through a neti pot
This why I care less about
These rappers turned debutants
I was independent at 14 when Webby dropped
Having rap battles with and Fats in Antioch
With one eye on the prize like Fetty Wap
I went into a pool of money
And did a belly flop ay J
I was on the phone with
Wallo and he was telling
Me to watch out for these hoes I knock
I had to tell him that I ain't no ni who
Just started getting pussy cause
His song got hot
I had a car before I had a daydream
I had a crib before I knew how
To cook when I was like 18
Most nights it was top ramen and baked beans
But I done thug it out
Before asking moms for anything
Now I'm in the hills with no service
Tryna dodge bitches who be
Fucking without a purpose
I will never let a woman make me feel less of
A man because I don't wanna buy her a Birkin
She send me back to the streets and I
Send you back to your momma house
Happy hour dining
Free drinks and back to your momma couch
You just want a ni with
Status to feel established
But there ain't enough room in this
Foreign for all your baggage
There's a certain addiction with nis
And tricking and making
It hard for women to tell who isn't
See you sorta Jordan and Pippen
You score and assist 'em
I'm like Stockton and Malone
Once I pick 'em imma roll
I'm gon' hit them and get gone
I know that probably wrong
But I married this money and I
Can't break a happy home
We bout to drop a tape so
It's time I set the tone
You got me in my zone, but Harry O, we on
Symba, hold on!
Where the fire extinguishers out here man
I ain't done
I tell 'em, how do I say
Ay, to all y'all in my DM about a feature
I'm only giving verses for the Leakers
I done work too hard to give verses this hard
For nis who budget can't cover my sneakers
Lord Jesus my bars on some vet shit
Rookie of the Year
I been on my Lewis Belt shit
They tell me slow it down for a second
But I'm like a crackhead who don't listen
I just can't help it the mood on Mamba
Look how he been in the genre
He's so Big Poppa
Who else could make 8 different
Flows through an entendre
I can double 'em, I can triple 'em
I can chop 'em i can speed the flow up
Slow 'em down and swap
I can pretty much do anything but stop
I come from a place where they
Hate to see you on top
But love on you on the block
And once you start getting money they
Look at you like an opp
My momma always said treat the
Janitor like a boss
Cause everybody plays a role to keep
You from taking a loss honesty is preferred
Respect is what you earn
And trust is something you gain
When loyalty is returned
I'm out in Turks plotting on
Property in the Burbs tryin not to splurge
And get the ghetto back from the nerds
This billion dollar vision
That's word to my ni Bird
Can't be behind gates from a selfish mistake
These nis waitin till it's too
Late to do straight
They try to recycle the same
People that they threw away
Never get paper to turn plastic
Bottle your actions and chasing your
Satisfaction through bitches reactions
Gimme another one