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beamon – well dressed lyrics

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[beamon intro]
my own mother say that i been changing
told her ima make it, but motherf-ckers faking
look at me in my face, you’ll see that i ain’t tame sh-t
motherf-ckers on they hate sh-t, i’m on my great sh-t
how you go from nameless, to d-mn near famous
i’m a rockstar n-gga, put me where the stage is
how the f-ck they bout to get on this
when i took that rap sh-t, and i just owned it

[verse 1]
my soul is black, tell me where my soul is at
remember when i sent you hoes my tracks, you wasn’t posting that
we could hit the strip club b-tch, ima post in back
swag on attack, i need 100 racks, ima mack
i need so much money man i won’t know what to do with it
ima new n-gga, i don’t dance and i don’t jerk hoe
but i’m on the track with more wave than a surf board
ima hug yo b-tch, hug yo b-tch, like a fur coat
tall gl-ss of water, yeah n-gga i’m what she thirst for
and i grind all day mane, what you work for?
you ain’t work hoe, ima throw it in reversal
watch the god kick it like judo, screwed flow
probably whippin that two door, it’s true hoe ima move slow
coming down, straight drop
these n-ggas hate, but i’m really throwed
in the zone, can’t f-ck with you silly hoes
cause they always messing up
i need to ride in exeleros, etcetera, etcetera

[belly dialogue 1]

[bridge to verse 2]
what’s really real?, i’m tryna get a meal (mill)
if i don’t signed?, ima feel the steel
cause she been on my mind & i’m behind the wheel
i’m staying on my grind just so i don’t have to feel
i’m feeling like i’m on my last ropes
when i had you?, that’s when i had hope
how i’m posed to have you?, and you way over there?
you got me pulling out my hair, aiming bullets at the air

[verse 2]
i shine like a motherf-cker, sun rays
if it wasn’t rapping it’d be trapping & that gun play
what the f-ck can you n-ggas say to a young n-gga?
i been on these raps, motherf-cker, chasing love n-gga
& i’m ill as sh-t, don’t give a d-mn cause i’m cold hoe
four five, nena on my hip, a get your soul stole
in my loan mode, and i put my hits slow mo
midwest n-gga, step up and get smashed b-tch
tryna get all on my dough, spitting and rip a b-tch all on my own
motherf-cker what you n-ggas is on, b-tch, keep your mouth closed
or i cut you off like a outro, got demons all in my house ho
feening to posses my brain, my n-gga i’m less than sane
sick game, no flu feel, say i changed?, but you you still
matter fact, k!ll yourself n-gga, you should use steel
and i don’t give a f-ck about these motherf-ckers
every b-tch would get a buck up out you motherf-ckers

[belly dialogue 2]



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