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black cobain – live from the skybox lyrics

[black cobain: verse one]

good money for the good tree
less stress for the t.a.c
i don’t talk “trap”
but why n-ggas in the trap always wanna talk ’bout me?
you all talking like a auction
35th floor apartments
probably think that we stallin’
’cause we ain’t puttin’ music out that often
i had to let my sh-t breathe, n-gga
but the fact still remains…
i’m the h.n.i.c
couple dollars for the chain
what’s the matter n-gga?
what you mad ’cause your b-tch ain’t bad as mine?
lil’ n-gga can’t touch this
let a n-gga know if it’s hammer time
gamble mine, i’m like “bet that”
no set ups and no setbacks
n-ggas talking fly, we don’t stress that
when i was pitching game, you ain’t catch that
n-ggas … , you in foamposites
we in balenciagas
i run my city with a light jog
you lil’ n-ggas wasn’t exercizing, checks deposit

been on my grind like the old “no limit”
riding through the hood, you ain’t know i was in it
benz all tinted and your b-tch all in it
if she see you too, she really want trippin
lil’ n-ggas get half a bar for your 32
b-tch n-gga, my b-tch is bigger than you
your mixtape? pepé le pew

meet … , we don’t owe a n-gga sh-t
we ain’t knowing that
if a n-gga just hate and you condone that
that’s a mouse trap, i rap all facts, you need to fall back
yeah, gullable guy
god, i love it
read your little rant, got back to the money
everybody know but ain’t none of y’all done it
if you talking bout rap don’t none of y’all want it
i get stamps on my p-ssport
you get stamps to buy food though
yeah, i got a bad little foreign b-tch…
and we just watch the telemundo
i’m tryina cash out, like joe flacco
i seen all you n-ggas at my last show
we just tryna meet this stat quo
with this crack flow
tell me why you mad again…
tell me why you mad again…
’cause you can’t dress
you n-ggas styling off the mannequin
and i be in the booth like a relapsed muslim goin’ ham again
y’all n-ggas like randall cunningham, just out here scramblin’
yeah, frequent flier, never home but i’m always reppin’
hating n-ggas, got 1000 questions
your b-tch let us, with no salad dressing
grown man making statements
i don’t even know what state i’m in
big west told me k!ll these n-ggas
and lil’ jay, he don’t feel these n-ggas
b.o.a. yeah it’s my turn, chasing money ’til my thighs burn
brown chick, she like foxy brown
smokin’ on a.z., man her t-ts firm
i put knives all in my last raps
i know rozay, what up maybach
shout out meek milly, d.c., that’s b.o.a., salute to philly
and i thought that n-ggas was like brothers too
whatever n-ggas be going through
ambition was a great time, bring it back n-gga, part 2
when you dead broke you gotta live right
so i pray to god i really live life
cause i sin bad, in a different world
maybe you can really get to live twice
yeah, d-mn that was deep
you know n-ggas don’t sleep
yeah, we insomniacs, so we rap better, that’s the recipe
take 10 and leave the rest for me
thank god i got a college degree
’cause i’m puttin on while you thinking ’bout it
in my … , i need extra cheese
and dammit, i’m a star (i’m a star n-gga…)
you don’t really know who you are (who you are n-gga…)
and i’ve been dreaming b’out a 62
and since you n-ggas taking shots
i hope it’s bullet proof, b-tch!

- black cobain lyrics

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