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delivery boys - on the radar cypher lyrics

[part i: viva la vida + goldwood]

[verse]
i don’t talk for free
that he say, she say, never got to me
i smoke a block of weed and treat the freeway like it’s rocket league
they jacked that they were me, but all they ask is say they fake
you can drop me in the league, i’m finna average twenty eight
hey, every spot got baddies in it
beat to beat like paddy pimblett
afghan kush, i’m smokin’ packs without iraqi pigment
rappin’ for that bag enrichment
wacky b+tch, her fatty different
cleveland shorty suck me while that b+tch from cincinnati l!cked it
swervin’ in the whip, hurt the rims on a pothole
these b+tches hit my phone, you got no hoes like johnny bravo
ya watchin’ my pockets, want what i got, these cheese not yours
withdrew the gdp of fiji, shut down wells fargo
i stay with weird lookin’ naked b+tches like picasso
my life is backyard sports and i’m the mvp like pablo
more chips and cheese than costco, pockets packed with pounds of nachos
i’m known around the globe, i ride from moscow to chicago
yeah, act all cool, my coupe incomprehensible
you expendable, boy, all my b+tches bendin’ centerfolds
dreamin’ skeptical but now my pockets green like vegetables
you rappers move identical, but actin’ asymmetrical
ya see me at the mall, and start to scream and, “get the camera, dad”
i smoke this stank, leave a bank with more green than bruce banner had
b+tches shiesty, roll the dice, i’m icey like [sabbanah jad?]
i ran a bag a bag, i’m droppin’ bars like off a [dinner jad?]
family incredibles, whole gang untouchable
watch how you maneuver now i’m seein’ how a sucker moves
walk into the party, clutchin’ more bread than a crustables
drop a couple of doubles like the rips offs is deductables
[part ii: redbone + ygb]

[part iii: die young + lostboybk]

[intro]
ay
ay, come on man
lunchboy
ay, ay, ay
i bought a brand new chop and it came with a drum
ay, ay
come on man, ay, ay

[verse]
all these n+ggas be actin’ like hoes
i never do laundry, don’t know how to fold
i’m still dissin’ the n+ggas that crossed me
they say that i’m crazy but talkin’ to ghosts
give a f+ck what a f+ck n+gga on
kick a b+tch out then i’m yellin, “go”
man, yo’ hoe got my d+ck in a choke
i’m the reason that she change the lock on her phone
cross my arms like g herbo, i’m cold
pockets fat like i’m missin’ a tope
i rock friends ’cause like names on a bullet
won’t let that sh+t miss, it’ll go over your dome
i’m aware of the n+ggas that hate me
i’m rappin’ up now but just like i’m sl!ck rick
tell my n+ggas pull up to your pole with a rocket
they want it? come swim with a big fish
my b+tch bold, she only speak german
the first time i met her it started with, “ich bin”
my boy stabbin’, they got out the cage
just to pick up the mic, like, i’m like a big spin
[outro]
come on man
come on man, stop playin’ with me

[part iiii: oldie + max gertler]

- delivery boys lyrics

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