Pure
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Haha, life good, baby
Gutterman, yo, pass me the muscles
Flea, where the lobsters at, baby?
Haha, ahh
Ayo, Scotty, man, yo, bring that Ace over here, man
You damn near drunk the whole bottle to the face
Haha, life's good
Ahh, bruh
Started rappin', put my trap phone down
Now all I do is spin, merry-go-round
I was fifteen coppin' four pounds
With a four pound, had to slow down
Free the homie John Gotti
Used to see the Smashing Pumpkins in my mom lobby
I'm a D-boy, I be on D, boy
Cut a nigga in the face, now he wear a keloid
Money can't buy respect
But it'll get a nigga hit, I just send a text
Young, but I bang with vets
Foreign guns, hammers from Bangladesh
Your bitch callin', I don't want the sex
I picked up 'cause I want some neck
My rap sheet is incredible, nigga
So keep walkin', what you better do, nigga
'Cause I'll show you what the metal do, nigga
Keep hittin', even shootin' at the medical niggas
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Cocaine parties, fiends doin' blow on a yacht
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Shit got hot, the Lord had to switch up spots
The Lord had to switch up spots
Shit got hot, the Lord had to switch up spots
I need a crib like Frank Lopez
Down in San Tropez where it ain't no feds
Walk around, big blunts on the golf course
I get the chicken, it don't come with hot sauce
Knockoff Flee, yeah, I'm a block boss
One key got the whole fuckin' yacht tossed
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
The D's parked on the block made it harder to cop
They on rooftops, got the third eye watchin'
The goons in the van, case the curbside poppin'
Now we all blitzin' like the Bills
My team a pharmacy the way we dishin' out them pills
In and out the state, sendin' out the weight
Team winnin' out the gate, pussy nigga, you a late fool
You either use it or lose it
Get straight off the cake or we do it with music
Every song that you heard from Lord had the plug on it
Every plate in my cabinet had drugs on it
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Cocaine parties, fiends doin' blow on a yacht
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Dope so pure, fiends started to drop
Shit got hot, the Lord had to switch up spots
The Lord had to switch up spots
Shit got hot, the Lord had to switch up spots
I'm choppin' dope in the fiend house
Yo, we the larger-than-life niggas
For life killers in the three-piece
Givenchy mink, piece king
What's the science, Lord?
A thousand grams on the ironing board
Rape sheets, designer cloth
Yo, I'll be gone in the wind, B
Them twelve-twelve skinnies bought me the Bentley
Take care of my moms, pray around, read the Qu'ran
Go against mine, your mother get buried
I'll uzi bulleit he, my shooters talkin' Israeli
Ski mask with a thousand grams
MAC-11 with the fan, I'll put a hole in your man
Do you filthy for the right wages
Spendin' nights with coke dealers and the dice gamers
A hundred large, that's a life-changer
My lil' Lord, he pull a white Wraith up, countin' paper
Ayo, yo, I'm high as a kite
Fly as a flight, movin' piles of the white
We shoot niggas on sight, the MAC-11's my type
Lord