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sam lachow - illegal lyrics

[verse 1: sam lachow]
you shot me up in your dream last night
you wonder if in real life you woulda won that fight
ya shot guns, guns, shoulda shot more guns
if you were wide awake would that have been a lot more fun?
well i’m just rappin’ ’bout the money well seein’ what money brings
laughin’ at the funny rappers doin’ funny things
blah blah blah shoulda made the right choice
i’m gettin’ head screamin’ “i’m a gangster–ss white boy!”
and i don’t even think she likes boys
this sex is on fire, how the fuck is this legal?
i’m gettin’ even higher i’m flyin’ with the seagulls
this head is unreal (how the fuck is this legal?)

[chorus: ryan campbell]
look
i walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me
i’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me
bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me
i walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?)

[verse 2: ryan campbell]
look
i know i’ve had some thoughts and dreams you prolly think you’ve had
but i wonder in real life if you’da took that chance
i need funds, funds, hundreds n’ thousands
fuck it i’m done scroungin’ the [?]
don’t matter who you are in the end, ’cause time gets you
so while i’m in this life i stay cleaner than five whistles
trust we on the way, we ain’t goin’ any place
bartender 86th, but we goin’ anyways
keep it wavy in the seat, that’s[?] my weed smokin’ look
come on man, you’da me, it’s like clico[?] to cooks
i be on, two or three, see we hit ’em like jugs
while my cup’s lookin’ chilly zig zag’s lookin’ kush

{verse 3: sam lachow]
i’m hoppin’ on the l to brooklyn so i can slobber on some l’s in brooklyn
i’m the man out here (uh huh)
where’s twenty foot gram out here
i got the hookups so the dojo come from california
yo who the fuck brought you here?
matter fact, the truth is, i’m new here
shag pone swag i thought you knew this
they tellin’ me to be more politically correct
but i love rap yah rap’s about smokin’ and oral sex
dude ya lady’s hella crazy after all
i took her out just for fun but without her i’m better off
she put her number in my phone but i forgot, never called
and then she found me weeks later trippin’ out at webster hall

[verse 4: john martin]
drums, drums, i beat on drums
i’m a giant here i come, fee, fi, fo, fum
i don’t wanna here a hum, better bite yo tongue
i’ll eat a beet, and a whole microphone, yum
i’m spittin’ nothin’ but venom i’m a head above like a center
i’m ricky bobby the winner and baby jesus at dinner
you intermediate flow to hit me you gotta get lessons
on next, gold necklace jump to kiro[?] calisthenics
i enter into a room i’m the life of it ’til i exit
the record hittin’ the needle they bouncin’ just like my checks is
my f-l-o-w row[?] without the protection
i’m keepin’ it ninety plus and then i wrecked it
you breastfed, baby

- sam lachow lyrics

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