freddie gibbs & madlib – massage seats lyrics
[intro]
yeah, b-tch say what’s up, i said, uh
n-gg-, flip a brick
b-tch ask me what’s up, i said, uh
pimp a b-tch
diamonds in the woodgrain wheel, n-gg-
n-gg-, kane
[verse 1]
golden state the roster, my garage deep
floating in the foreign on m-ssage seats
yeah, keep, keep designer on a broad feet
i been water whippin’ earl simmons, all my dawgs eat
44 bulldog, all my dawgs bite
flexin’ amg, pushin’ redline through the red light
spot a p-ssy boy with a red dot, bust a headshot
they got us in the scope, all this bread talk really fed talk
yeah, n-gg-, f-ck it, get your money on
still takin’ calls on this money phone
every sunday morning, i hit maurice with the moneygram
he was major league, i’m pitchin’ softball, underhand
these n-gg-s don’t understand
this ain’t for soccer mamas, this for the underground
n-gg-s was the sh-t last summer and now they numbers down
rappers gettin’ jacked for they jewels, i keep that tool with me
i go makaveli on hugh’s brothers, b-tch, who the menace?
[interlude]
yeah, kane, n-gg-
and i was h-ttin’ b-tches, i’m talkin’ ’bout
i was h-ttin’ r&b b-tches
when a n-gg- was broke and sh-t, you know what i’m sayin’, n-gg-?
you know what i’m sayin’?
platinum b-tches, you know what i mean?
b-tches on the charts, you feel me? yeah
you know what i mean, not just really big b-tches tryna get on, you know what i’m sayin’?
yeah, kane season
[verse 2]
yeah, n-gg-, f-ck it, get your money on
still takin’ calls on this money phone (yo, what up?)
every sunday morning, keshia hit me with the moneygram
touchdown in the chi and make that p-ssy do the money dance
i should have a tux on in this b-tch, me and money make holy matrimony
shot caller, put them shooters on you like d’antoni
top dollar, lock me up and i make the bond, no
big baller, father, you my son like lonzo (b-tch)
entertainer with a lot of trap contacts
we pushin’ packs ’cause in this rap, it ain’t no max contracts
with fifty on a n-gg- head, that’s a trap contract
and catch him with a car full and push they whole sh-t back
seats in the 600, push they whole sh-t back
i flip a flow and do a show and get the whole clique racks, b-tch
whippin’ earl simmons, all my dawgs eat
golden state the roster, my garage deep
floating in the foreign on m-ssage seats
[outro]
yeah, see, you gotta see, n-gg-, you know, you gotta understand (yeah)
i’m from gary, n-gg-s ain’t used to no, no foreign cars, you know what i’m sayin’? (f-ck n-gg-)
like, i remember when
when that n-gg- ced came through with the
c, c230 or some sh-t, c or e cl-ss, some sh-t
i’m like “n-gg-? get out that motherf-ckin’ auntie benz, n-gg-“
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