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sts lyrics lyrics

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[verse 1: sts]
history makin’, lean as hickory bacon
i’m habanero and cajun, my temperature tipping satan
this rap identification for the afro-centric asian
words to the race relations, f-ck all you ones who be hating
i’m just rolling up and elevating, prematurely celebrating
tell a n-gga “h-ll is waiting”, i’m in heaven tail-gating
harry potter wizardry, avatar is imagery
smoking silverstein haze, call that sh-t the givin’ tree
do it for the fans, pray they never john lennon me
with five hollow points on the back of my white linen tee
lest i drink bags of the reefer while i’m smoking this hennessy
take me to another place, and i ain’t talking tennessee
tell them b-tches “ven aqui”, i got something they should see
there’s a party in my pants, its going down from 10-3
remember i demanded more when n-ggas reminisce on me
the power in my bros is worth the hoes in your soliloquies
so now i’ll crack a philly d, fill my philly with givin’ tree
as smooth as my delivery, f-cking b-tches with chivalry
heavy sense of fashion and a god-given ability to murder mice without the use of heavy artillery
rep that philly d to go-l-d to atl, my n-gga t
my n-gga jah, my n-gga schoolly, plus my n-gga young l-e
handle was in front of me, spit whatever sh-t come to me
there’s polo on my eyes but it say dolce on my dungarees
ceremony m-ssacre master moving harmoniously
pardon me for knocking your b-tches don’t criticize me
goldy in the flesh, you reds havin any ho you see
you drinking if you got it or not, f-ck what these rappers preach
sitting on a happy heap of hundreds, gettin blunted
and the pretty b-tches kick it while their gs is gettin fronted
give a f-ck about who run it, who ran it, n-gga goddammit
god, the gold is in the building, we -ssessing the damage
so could you please

[hook]
show me love
could you please
show me love
show me love

[verse 2]
take full advantage of this moment
were rapping on tall opponents
yeah my name is start with sugar, like n-gga “who want it?”
spit that flow the doggoneit style, hop on it and drop a bow
say words is word familiar make a k!llin off living vows
the country is tipping cows, while tipping my waiters and child
post-impressionist flow, full of colors both rich and loud
their daddy jamaica-proud, their momma, i’m touching clouds
i’m writing my name in the sky, you know what that sh-t’s about
its money-making, hundred-taking, we going ham like honey bacon
rappers eat and tell me aching causing all their constipation
about my green like conservation, yeah, philly concentrating
rolling up and contemplating me being a constellation
peace and bless and salutation, thats on my evaluation
i’m just ’round here raising h-ll, nickname should be reformation
get up on that, rock the party, atl i gotta shout it
southernplayalisticadillacmuzik for everybody
chevy-body, heavy body, til they make a feather body
i be riding old school, run until its raving, shawty
flow ducati, pop a wheelie, smoke a l with every human
best rapper in atl just ask everyone up in philly



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