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umg clan - guild lyrics

[verse 1: andrew basulto]
said this a hit of liquid heroin
marilyn manson channeling, panicking, spar with anakin
’til one of us leave in an ambulance
blow the smoke of the spliff in your eyes
you ain’t gon’ live till you die
intelligent b+tch on my side
she b+tching, i’m spitting habitual lies
i hit her up when my jet land
got a swisher tucked in my headband
front page news, i’m young jesus
eating bagels with no cable on
been f+cking hoes since when mase was on
i hope that basedgod hears my prayers
one day you’re here, the next day you’re gone
so me and earl smoking weed on jay+z’s lawn
some dope rap on your ho ass, tony womack
don’t hold back, or feed your girl cognac
meet a b+tch, sleepin’ with her, feverish, keep a chick
met her off twitter even schindler keeps a list
pittsburgh, broke down somewhere in a fisker
i could pull your b+tch with a whisper and diss her
dumbass ho
she only dumb cause she love that though
somewhere getting high reading, juxtapoz
i hit her up, she come through and watch adjustment bureau
moms love me cause i’m so commercial
i f+ck ’em raw cause i know they fertile
in myrtle beach with a purple fleece
hotel lobbies playing fur elise
i’m ron burgundy mixed with hercules
slap a b+tch in the mouth if she curse at me
i said josh’s beard is like paul revere
when he walk in the room it’s like god is here
i’m at a prop shop in montauk throwing tomahawks
at civilians… i’m chillin’
[verse 2: trini basulto]
i’m on the monitor n+gga
she taking it like a champ
and i’m proud of her n+gga
i’m on the couch where that loud is burning
i’m shouting, “i don’t f+ck with you”
cause i don’t, never love a ho
but we could play doctor, ma
open wide for the thermometer
your cow girl’s crotch riding
with a clean, faded fro, lopsided
tell the label that i want a white driver
and tell him give me sp+ce, i don’t know that n+gga
bold ass little f+ckin’ low class villain
whole van tinted, nope can’t k!ll him
it’s the trashw+ng n+gga, that’s what’s up
half pint of hope in that plastic cup
real n+gga from the start till the casket shut
present his own case as a basket one
present+day based n+gga, smack the judge
riding with them same n+ggas ashin’ blunts
while that bass make his face like he mad or somethin’
slide in the safe, take the cash and run
know that if he fake i’m harrassin’ him
took the big toe so they tagged the tongue
out here stuntin’ like i’m supposed to, dog
blowing more smoke than a broke exhaust
pipe only spirit that i hold in the dark
it’s wolf gang b+tch like you know these paws
living like it’s ’62
spit and grip my genitals
my b+tch to split the swisher
my n+ggas split the residuals
[outro (x2)]
aye, marijuana fields
pot growing, blaring gil scott
heron while we pill pop
errand run and k!ll cop
n+ggas know i feel not
for ’em, stop b+tching
stare and get that grill knocked
open

- umg clan lyrics

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