Key: A minor
Verse 1
Bump that shit nigga
It's a spiritual thing, Marc
We riding nigga!
Feel that?
Uh yeah
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I can feel it when the wind blow
Verse 2
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In the Benzo hangin' out
the window
You know nigga how the shit goes
Get a hundred from the hip bone
Verse 3
Niggas cooped up in the P's
like sardines
Ain't no palm trees,
and this ain't R and B
We sippin Dom P listenin'
to Ron G
Nigga we rep the far east,
spark the beef like a cookout
It won't digest correct, no di- doubt
I put my foot down in any event
and kick a dent
Then stick a pen in your blimp,
now witness the strength
Til I whip in a bent,
my dogs gon' pick up a scent
And this isn't French,
but niggas have to kiss the ring
And momma said there
would be days like this
And if pussy taste like fish
don't give her no dick
Clock a grip, watch a clip,
friends and biz don't mix
And the big gold ring got
the Flintstone bling
Wrist glow pink gold fat like
the disco three
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It was a panic at the disco Thirty
Verse 4
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two shots yeah that's what
the clip hold
I could feel it when the wind blow
In the Benzo hangin' out the window
Verse 5
F
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put me on a scale of one to ten
Friend, I'm the bomb
with a short stem
It's on again,
you'll be gone with the wind
Tryin' to come at me crooked
you'll get caught in the end
It's important to win cuz raw is for men
Not boys and girls and tricks are for kids
I got you like a jigsaw dig
The hoes I'm like Fillmore Slim
Must I reveal more sin,
and peel caps back like raw skin
I kick doors in,
and hip toss niggas like kids
Plus I'm light skinded like Prince,
ready to let the Mac 10 rinse
As I sat behind the black tints,
Califat the mack that's him
The rap crack kingpin the grim
The Max Payne grin the slave ships
Niggas ain't shit they gave in
F
Bbm
It was a panic at the disco Thirty
Verse 6
two shots yeah
that's what the clip hold
I could feel it when the wind blow
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If you ain't know this is how the shit go
With the pistol stickin'
up the rich folk
Panic at the disco
Verse 7
Reveal a eight pack black, gangster mack
Had a suitcase crack,
ASAP get aimed at
Hardbody never came fat, grey Ac
Cocaine rap,
my way up in a Maybach mat and lay back
Lemonade glass, spank ass,
and put crack on the ave
Nigga I'm stackin that cash,
but who knew it would happen that fast
And cats ain't addin' up the math,
but came back clappin' at your pad
Just for rappin' that bad,
and no way you should get a hood pass
that that's flab
We can't collab with that crab
Niggas ain't G, they lack swag
So I got to bring the black mag
Verse 8
and dead pop three in your fat ass
F
Bbm
It was a panic at the disco
Ebm
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Thirty two shots yeah
that's what the clip hold
I could feel it when the wind blow
In the Benzo hangin' out the window
Bbm
Ebm
how the shit go
With the pistol stickin' up the rich folk
Outro 1
Panic at the disco
F
Cm
Bbm
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsBbm F Ebm Cm
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