yakobie slade - excess lyrics
[intro]
don’t talk to me just listen
jump up, get pumped like a piston
y’all ain’t f-cking with the man on a misison
shots fired, better keep your distance
you drinking out the cup that i p-ssed in
we ain’t done yet, switch your position
cowboy, to missionary
that’s a good christian, ahh
[verse 1]
little bit of cold spit, little bit of fire
rap like this, i ain’t need to get hired by no corporation
suck my d-ck, no hesitation
k!ll this beat, premeditation
y’all just tuned into the station, i’m erasing
bars ain’t got no innovation
high conscience, no more patience
done with a dumb-ss rapper, got no love for bum -ss rappers, yo
f-ck you and your sons, and your mans and your bands
‘cause you b-tch just like an actor, oh
y’all don’t quite know who you’re f-cking with, do ya?
slade from the borough, we f-ck with the shooters
oh ya, baby we bruiser on me
what the f-ck is it to ya, homie?
y’all be f-cking with hc only
city girls and bags of money
take it out my weed so loud
some kid get high in dallas county
[bridge]
man i push that heavy music
million grams, i over do’s it
sh-t is blasting, rowdy, stupid
room be spinning, lazy susan
[verse 2]
i be cruising, winning
abusing women and children, i’m kidding
i’m f-cking twisted, i’m chilling
listen
no plans on going to prison
i’m staying free, independent
no record label this minute
said f-ck it, i’m independent
b-tch got me up in her pendent
she pray to me every night
want slade up inside her p-ssy
until the day that she die, ai!
i will never die-die-die
hands up in the air like a godd-mn heist
have these f-ckers screaming and whining
and b-tching and crying
to god like why why why?
b-tch, i be the muay thai fighter
blow up a bic lighter
hold up, i’m on fire
straight up i’m gonna violate
your personal sp-ce, i ain’t merciful
yes it is personal, f-ck out my face
it’s a race you will never win
stop trying to place in first place
‘cause i’m already there
i’ll be up in mid air
watching from a distance
count on my rap money
this sh-t’s a business
come to the back buddy
we got stacks of green sh-t and crack buddy
we got cash, from all around the map, dunny
write a new rap, and two times my stack, buddy
ain’t that funny? ain’t that funny?
all that money?
spark this weed
make that honey
sh-ts so loud that you can’t hear
make that durban disappear
[outro]
ohhhhhh sh-t!
god, f-ck!
jesus!
f-f-ck! you hear that sh-t?
did you, say woah, yo you hear that sh-t?
say woah! say woah!
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