Wale, Tre of UCB, Pusha T, Bun B - The Feature Heavy Song lyrics

Back into go mode back in the go go’s
That fly shit I've been on
That fly shit I've been on come on

Meet the one and only
(Me) , yeah homie, I'm Thelonious
Blowing, pause, no trumpet I'm on (On)
Faux pas never (Never) and so far clever
They hating on a young'un
Get you X like cars
XL, nah, I was on world tour
And when I touch back
Who you thinking they call (Wale)
Yeah, still high two-steppin' it
Do it for the capital, Wale Ovechkin
SB hundreds, yes, dear, I'm on that venison
More or less Lindros
Flyer than the rest of them
Mind my intentions
They ain't nothing similar
Sideways, talking out your neck like Zednik
Fly shit I be on your highness
Then I might get my underground king on
(What up) dC hip-hop, get my U Street on
Cops actin' funny, see
They get they "Blue Streak" on
DMV, we gone (Back)

Back in the gold gold back in the cold?
That fly shit I've been on come on

It's Bun Beeda, I'm PA's own
PA's trillest, chilling in my PA zone
(PA zone)
I heard 'em try to say that PA's gone
You heard wrong, motherfucker
'cause PA's home (PA's home)
And on the real
We never left like the right of way (Way)
Serving and swerving from dusk to
First light of day (Day)
You got that good, player, light away (Way)
Don't care if we gonna ride and sip
And smoke a whole night away (Way)
And I don't lite a J, I fire up the ass-end
(End)
Of the blunt, take a hit and get to passin'
('Sin') you wanna hit it
(Nope) , don't even get to askin'
'Cause it's a closed circle (Huh)
Don't try to jump your ass in (At all)
You need more weight to leverage (Yup)
I lay you down, you ain't getting up unless
You was Kevin Everett (Whoa)
I CD like the District of Columbia flipped
So I'm really hoping that none of you trip
Because I'm

Back in the gold gold back in the cold?
That fly shit I've been on come on

Back in the gold gold, look at the showboat
Leaves is cocoa, comin' by the boatload
Chains, promo, Playcloths logo
I'm Lennox out of Belly
You see me walking in slow-mo
Or hopping into something with some low-pros
Up and down with the roof
The top is like a yo yo
Yuugh! The makings of a mogul
I'm up and down with the price
The corner's playing pogo
Who fucking with the mojo, no show
Without the red nose
I see the clown in you Bozos
Pusha pitch it like he Nomo
Striking them switch hitters, dodging popo
DMV's fo sho, though, throw dough
Baby, we can treat Chevy
Chase like little SoHo
Spend a day thumbing through Fendi hobos
Reap the benefit's and rewards of
How I blow dough

Back in the gold gold back in the cold?
That fly shit I've been on come on