robb jay - #stg lyrics
verse 1:
doc martens, steppin’ through this b—h though/ (ha)
breakin’ necks, whip lash on a rich h-e/ (yea)
shooters wit’ me, you can get ya issue/ (hmm)
have ya mammy cryin’, here’s a tissue/ (d-mn)
plus you know i got the stick too/ (ha)
certified, i be with the s—s too/ (yup)
my s–t is fire hot, break the meter/ (got d-mn)
your s–t is minuscule, like amoeba/ (s–t is little)
chiba chiba, i be on cloud 10/
redman, method man, how high can i ascend/
i do not love these hoes, and i will not pretend/
first i f-ck her, then i duck her, switch, and do it all again/ (ha!)
my flow is not modern, it’s timeless/
chokin’ on my d-ck, i should give this hoe the heimlich/
running’ through this money, i should probably get the heisman/
stiff arm that hoe, f-ck outta here like a lineman/ (bow)
hook:
swear to god, when i put these words together, it’s magical/
swear to me, i do what i want, you do what you haft do/
do it big, all caps, like i’m mad at you/
c.e.o. s–t, c.e.o. s–t/
swear to god, when i put these words together, it’s magical/
swear to me, i do what i want, you do what you haft do/
do it big, all caps, like i’m mad at you/
c.e.o. s–t, c.e.o. s–t/
verse 2:
c.e.o. s–t, n—a all capitals,/ (ha)
f—-n’ wit’ my bag will make me clap at you/ (-imitates gun sound-)
f–k up out my face wit’ all that att-tude/ (peace)
i’m a blessing, you should show me grat-tude/ (holy)
flyer n—a, you ain’t on my lat-tude/ (nope, nope)
never f—-d with something of this magnitude/ (nope, nope)
i don’ paid my dues, and got them stripes on me/ (stripes on me)
i am the big homie, little n—a you don’t know me/
ain’t no swag rag dawg, no mumble/ (nope)
clearly, i’m a problem, i suggest that you be humble/ (yup)
money in the streets, but mostly legal investments/ (hold up)
i can write your business plan and projections/
f–k it run them numbers, and -ssociate with gunners/
i need a hot girl cuz i’m the number 1 stunna/ (wa what, wa wa what)
i don’t try to do what they do/ ( nope)
i jus get my cream cheese like a bagel/ (yup)
robb jay, socrates, plato/
f—-n’ wit’ a broke b—h could be fatal/ (yup)
f–k a seat, n—a make your own table/ (yup)
and f–k a deal n—a, start your own label/ (and run it!)
hook:
swear to god, when i put these words together, it’s magical/
swear to me, i do what i want, you do what you haft do/
do it big, all caps, like i’m mad at you/
c.e.o. s–t, c.e.o. s–t/
swear to god, when i put these words together, it’s magical/
swear to me, i do what i want, you do what you haft do/
do it big, all caps, like i’m mad at you/
c.e.o. s–t, c.e.o. s–t/
copyright 2019 we prosper/ 7th division recordings
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