bugatti beez – commas (remix) lyrics
[verse 1: bugatti beez]
alright let’s keep it simple
let’s f-ck up some commas, i am the bomb like osama
i’m probably f-ckin’ your momma, there’s so many fish in the sea
but i’m a piranha, so them niggas gonnas
i’m gunna go 0-100 nigga real quick, real shit
growin’ up i was broke so i started rappin’
now i’m surround by banks like i’m will smith
nigga hit the k!ll switch
when i was writtin’ and shit i was hotta than the b-tch
i take pride when i spit, i got so many haters
they blockin’ the beautiful women from gettin’ a chance to come ride on the d-ck
man i’m mad as a b-tch
these other niggas rappin’ but man they are trash at this shit
but i hit the (bull?) f-ck a spaz on the cl-ss
like when teachers get mad when you talkin’ they shit
so don’t talk when i’m rappin’
listen, my jewelry really expensive, i might be gifted
i might be cold, but you gotta [?] a children
only thing that’s flaky about me is when i got dandruff
nigga every time i k!ll instrumentals i reset the standards, nigga
let’s f-ck up some comma, aye [x2]
[verse 2: bugatti beez]
but back to the beat
from a hood where if you don’t get them, best believe they comin’ back with the heat
if for some reason you just gotta get attached to the street
d-mn, now you got your back in the street
ey man honestly i just find (financial?) unique
motha f-ck your opinion, they (natchured?) this beat
but that black on black honda decrease
now the po-lice got more blacks together than black people meet
the flows authentic, hell no i ain’t rent it
my windows are tinted, presidential of course, like obama got in it
i put that on my momma’s momma’s that i’m finna get it
i could of said grandma but it’s not my d-mn fault
that you motha f-ckas so simple minded when i rhymes with that you’ll go hit the f-ckin’ rewind
(branded?), i chokin’ niggas with the bars
i hope that someone ’round you knows the heimlich, maneuver
watch me pick this shit up like a poopa scoopa
if the b-tch foreign of course i scoop her
hatin’ on me you’re a f-ckin’ losa
don’t be mad at me because writin’ on the p, a, d, got me a nice p, a, d
a, d, d dopeness, subtract that hoe shit
multiply the numba of people that slept with you and keep the one above you right in front of you
tryin’ to get m’s upside down like a w
pretty handsome, girls say that i’m lovable
oh you thought i said (that rappa?), you gullible
all the real niggas like ‘nigga i f-ck witchu’
now i could go on and on and on and on
and ironic cause i’d still go off
better pray to the most high on that the steel go off
cause the motha f-ckin’ steel goes off, (la [x7])
i’m tired of doin’ this, this rap shit, i’m pursuin’ it
i overheard that the (rug?) game was fallin’ apart
well f-ck it nigga, i’ll be the glue to it
shittin’ on rappers, i am the master
spreadin’ the word like i am a pastor
ball ’till i fall, the boy is a cancer
i am a cancer, spittin’ that cancer
now i don’t know how in the f-ck i’ve been doin’ exactly whatever the f-ck i’ve been doin’
i swear to the mic and i bring yay to the mic so of course i do not have the answers boy
don’t f-ck up my pradas, aye [x2]
[outro]
don’t f-ck up this motha f-ckin’ pradas nigga
ah like i… i ain’t got no f-ckin’ pradas…
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