The Alchemist, Fashawn - Oleg's Flight lyrics
The Alchemist [Alan Daniel Maman] Beverly Hills, CA, U.S. 🇺🇸
[The Alchemist, Fashawn - Oleg's Flight lyrics]
This is dedicated to you, the halfway crook
Poking bitches on Facebook
Same lame get his chain took
I throw flames let his frame cook
Glad bags and black mags is the season
Mothafucka I don't get mad, I get even
Burning the devil's
Lettuce out the Garden of Eden
20 deep in the park, pardon my heathens
We all here
Grizzy Gang playing your pallbearers
I support the right to arm bears
Long stares
I'll lift you out your lawn chair
Nigga, better keep 'em calm
When the Don's near
This is cloud rap off a loud pack
Committing foul acts with a wild batch
A game having, chain snatching
Crime figures, you know, my niggas
Fucking with thugs
Out to get scratch like a lottery ticket
Never stopping my mission, nigga, uh
It's only logic that I gotta
Be the mothafuckin' man
If you could empathize with me
Then you would understand
That I'm an over achiever, a born leader
That was taught to never ever leave
The house without a heater
And for the dearly departed
Pour out a couple liters
And let 'em sink in the cement
Niggas said that I graduated from scheming
Well, maybe not, still California Dreaming
A parking lot full of Impalas and Beamers
A couple yachts, bitches swallowing my semen
Shoe box full of dollars for no reason
I'm a problem best believe it
Vomit like I'm bulimic
Over something supersonic
Kinda rhyming procedures, ironic
My competition's just a bunch of juniors
Cuba Goodings
In fact life is Russian Roulette
Only way to win, if you do it to death
It's F
Poking bitches on Facebook
Same lame get his chain took
I throw flames let his frame cook
Glad bags and black mags is the season
Mothafucka I don't get mad, I get even
Burning the devil's
Lettuce out the Garden of Eden
20 deep in the park, pardon my heathens
We all here
Grizzy Gang playing your pallbearers
I support the right to arm bears
Long stares
I'll lift you out your lawn chair
Nigga, better keep 'em calm
When the Don's near
This is cloud rap off a loud pack
Committing foul acts with a wild batch
A game having, chain snatching
Crime figures, you know, my niggas
Fucking with thugs
Out to get scratch like a lottery ticket
Never stopping my mission, nigga, uh
It's only logic that I gotta
Be the mothafuckin' man
If you could empathize with me
Then you would understand
That I'm an over achiever, a born leader
That was taught to never ever leave
The house without a heater
And for the dearly departed
Pour out a couple liters
And let 'em sink in the cement
Niggas said that I graduated from scheming
Well, maybe not, still California Dreaming
A parking lot full of Impalas and Beamers
A couple yachts, bitches swallowing my semen
Shoe box full of dollars for no reason
I'm a problem best believe it
Vomit like I'm bulimic
Over something supersonic
Kinda rhyming procedures, ironic
My competition's just a bunch of juniors
Cuba Goodings
In fact life is Russian Roulette
Only way to win, if you do it to death
It's F