Alexander F'real Songtext
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
Tell them rappers
Y'all better stop jumping on the couch
One of y'all gonna hurt yourself
And that last shot should probably be my last shot
I have to stop before I crack this padlock
The dialogue got lost in the fast talk
The jackpot's just a pat on the back, dog
You had a voice but you act so moist
You probably collapse in the background noise
She got drama like she [?]
But you at the bar trying to buy her a pony
Only G's go straight, no chase
Only wife her if she knows a little Ghostface
My clientele's supreme
But ain't no red box on these 501 jeans
The sag is mean, the kicks is clean
The red light turn green then we hit the scene
This machine too ill on these new wheels
Four in the floor, Slug tell 'em how you feel
Sunset through the windshield of an El Dorado
I'm parked in the back of that old Chicago
I play it cool, but might melt the vinyl
I'm so old school you can smell the hydro
Felt revival like I'm selling bibles
I might be wrong, but how the hell should I know?
Born on the hood like a drive a rhino
Wake me up when we inside Ohio
This goes out to all my dogs in Saint [?]
Gray clouds on the beach and it ain't small
I log my ten thousand
Looking for new goals to achieve, I've been browsing
So many O's to this G, I can't count it
About to stack it all and build my own space mountain
Type of shit these rappers be saying out they mouth
When they high off the lean and the weed and need counseling
We wanna get too messed to mess anything up
Never say never give up
I guess it all depends on what the medicine does
And how much you put inside of that measuring cup
It goes beats, and bars, and cheap cigars
And everybody wanna sleep underneath the stars
Hey kid walk straight, master your high
The last one to die can put a glass in the sky
Here's to a toast to the last ten years
All these emcees been living in fear
In fear of the return of the [?]
We lit a fire to the scene and let it burn for a few (it's the two)
And now we back to collect
And we slightly disturbed at the lack of respect
They keep comparing us to everyone else
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
Tell them rappers
Y'all better stop jumping on the couch
One of y'all gonna hurt yourself
And that last shot should probably be my last shot
I have to stop before I crack this padlock
The dialogue got lost in the fast talk
The jackpot's just a pat on the back, dog
You had a voice but you act so moist
You probably collapse in the background noise
She got drama like she [?]
But you at the bar trying to buy her a pony
Only G's go straight, no chase
Only wife her if she knows a little Ghostface
My clientele's supreme
But ain't no red box on these 501 jeans
The sag is mean, the kicks is clean
The red light turn green then we hit the scene
This machine too ill on these new wheels
Four in the floor, Slug tell 'em how you feel
Sunset through the windshield of an El Dorado
I'm parked in the back of that old Chicago
I play it cool, but might melt the vinyl
I'm so old school you can smell the hydro
Felt revival like I'm selling bibles
I might be wrong, but how the hell should I know?
Born on the hood like a drive a rhino
Wake me up when we inside Ohio
This goes out to all my dogs in Saint [?]
Gray clouds on the beach and it ain't small
I log my ten thousand
Looking for new goals to achieve, I've been browsing
So many O's to this G, I can't count it
About to stack it all and build my own space mountain
Type of shit these rappers be saying out they mouth
When they high off the lean and the weed and need counseling
We wanna get too messed to mess anything up
Never say never give up
I guess it all depends on what the medicine does
And how much you put inside of that measuring cup
It goes beats, and bars, and cheap cigars
And everybody wanna sleep underneath the stars
Hey kid walk straight, master your high
The last one to die can put a glass in the sky
Here's to a toast to the last ten years
All these emcees been living in fear
In fear of the return of the [?]
We lit a fire to the scene and let it burn for a few (it's the two)
And now we back to collect
And we slightly disturbed at the lack of respect
They keep comparing us to everyone else
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt
But the difference is when we drop records, they Felt