jpegmafia - pink slip lyrics
[intro: jpegmafia]
“officer i have a problem here.”
“i’ve named this one jpeg.”
“you are watching a master at his craft.”
14k, 18k, gold
“you think you know me.”
[verse 1: jpegmafia]
ooh ooh
old designer on my right wrist (“jpeg”)
i can take it like a cyclist, wipe this
i been rolling on the right trip (oowee)
you ain’t even like this (oowee) (“superb.”)
working on the temple in my right wrist
n+gga you ain’t never been on my sh+t
f+ck around and get her play with my set
that’s on my set
i ain’t got no set (nah)
i just got respect
i got a check (yeah)
and your girl want me
i know she want… head
i don’t eat no p+ssy, sike i lied (yeah)
i be dying just like pac+man (“it comes.”)
eat the dots up
batman, that man
carry .22s gat+man, shotgun (+gunshot+)
like a hit
b+tch i’m that man, black man (“fight!”)
at your door with the sack, man (wow, yeah)
i am black like colin powell (yeah)
i got all this money, power (yeah)
so you know these n+ggas sour (yeah)
i like to blow on the ketamine
my b+tch she look like a samurai
shredder run right on my b+tch (“b+tch!”)
i got your ho on my d+ck
she be all on the tip
i be riding with the stick (ooh)
and your girl ride stick (ooh)
she control that sh+t (yeah)
oowee oowee i’m on a terror
oowee peggy peggy you won’t dare (yeah)
come around we bet you’re scared (yeah yeah)
(“laughing all the way to the bank.”)
[verse 2: arno faraji]
b+tch i’m the sh+t
b+tch i’m the man
get this money, live that life, die real, that’s the plan
f+ck you sayin’?
i’m saiyan, how i’m moving in this place
i can’t turn the other cheek, n+ggas’ll shoot you in the face
that’s why i’m shootin’ from the waist
f+ck a shooter b+tch
’cause i don’t want my n+ggas catchin’ case
f+ck! (“you ain’t no+”)
that’s why you cannot relate
i might f+ck her and [?] while you boo all in my face
that’s ’cause she knew i was the ace
i just slipped out the p+ssy
then slipped in my vans
i get cash
f+ck a uber, i’ll just hitch the sedan
puffin’ [?]
she just ripped up my pants
gettin’ hitched, not the plan
she get hit, by my mans
half a zip in my hands
rolling leafs by the gram
taking big steps
i might walk and trip to j+pan
don’t run your mouth girl
loose lips ain’t sh+t (f+ck!)
she let me hit and now i got that pink slip (b+tch)
[outro]
“new york’s down south supplier.”
“we got it for cheap.”
“one thousand grams uncut to the+ gut.”
“d+mn son where’d ya baby momma find this?”
“i’m telling on you!”
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