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e from the l.o.s.t. - so when i... (blow up) ['63 nova] lyrics

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[verse 1]

the b-tches kinda hate me…
(girl: “ha. kind of?!”)
okay more than chris brown after the sh-t went down
it makes sense. i’m kind of a piece of sh-t
and every girl i trick to kiss my lips still regrets it
what can i say i’m not matthew mcconaughey
grew up on that snoop, i don’t love them hoes anyway
same sh-t different day, no one really gives a f-ck
same b-tch different name. silly sl-t
so shut the f-ck up b-tch and turn the speakers up
and make it thump until the dash board seater busts
and when my tommy gun tongue starts buckin’ off shots the source will give me 5 mics

[hook]

so when i… blow up
catch me in that ’63 nova
scr-ping through the city streets shoulders
lower. tore up
motor got fangs like a cobra
so what?
i’ma ride slower

so when i… blow up
catch me in that ’63 nova
scr-ping through the city streets shoulders
lower. tore up
motor got fangs like a cobra
so what?
i’ma ride slower

[verse 2]

i said.. the girl’s hair’s long she think she bad
she got that -ss from her mom. god d-mn
i seen it with nothin’ on but a spray tan
she thinks she’s a model broad, nah man
i told her that she’s a ten last night
she’s about a four or five, i lied
mami broke just like a little girl
bobby’s right, she thinks that one day she’ll see the world
yeah right. no way
i said mami’s on cocaine
i told her i was in the movie “soul plane”
i promised that b-tch the world and then i said the same sh-t to her home girl

[hook]

so when i… blow up
catch me in that ’63 nova
scr-ping through the city streets shoulders
lower. tore up
motor got fangs like a cobra
so what?
i’ma ride slower

so when i… blow up
catch me in that ’63 nova
scr-ping through the city streets shoulders
lower. tore up
motor got fangs like a cobra
so what?
i’ma ride slower

[verse 3]

ay
i told her that i’m a rockstar
(girl: “where’s your guitar?”)
i left it in a friend’s car
(girl: “ha, that’s real bizarre”)
what’s bizarre is seeing you in this bar and needing to know who you are
i wanna put you in my memoires
ever ride on big tires, through the gates of your own little empire?
sit shotty with the god in the maserati
ain’t that what the ballers always say? well anyway i could be ballin’ anyday
i’ll leave you drive when you’re a big girl…
i’ll leave you drive when you’re a big girl…
i’ll leave you drive when you’re a big girl… big girl….



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