• 标题:Lemon Pepper Freestyle
  • 歌手:Drake;Rick Ross
  • 专辑:Scary Hours 2
  • 卡拉OK评级:1★
  • 语言:en
  • 注释:
  • 上传者:
  • 文本歌词:

    请使用功能强大的AutoLyric软件来自动搜索和下载LRC歌词。

    作词 : Aubrey Graham/William Roberts/Mathew Samuels/Robin Hannibal/Cecilie Maja
    作曲 : Aubrey Graham/William Roberts/Mathew Samuels/Robin Hannibal/Cecilie Maja
    Tryin', tryin', tryin', tryin'
    I pray these niggas understand how passionate the tale is
    To get you under my pressure
    Richer
    I been tryin', tryin', tryin', tryin'
    Yes, uh
    Biggest, you feel me? (M-M-M-Maybach Music)
    Godfather with a garden full of snakes
    Call Porsche, time to give away a Wraith
    Bricks boy, tryna turn 'em into bass
    Big boy, I been tryin' by the Braves
    Court room soundin' like I'm in the opera
    Went and got it, now these niggas wanna knock us
    *****es fallin' 'cause they need a couple dollars
    But it ain't a problem 'cause a nigga really got it
    Fat boy, rich nigga, with a appetite
    Count money all night under the candlelight
    Spinnin' vinyl, Teddy P, or is it Lionel?
    Not a model, but I know I been your idol
    Big bank, sparkin' weed without a lighter
    On fire 'cause I'm just a different writer
    Practicin' social distance with all these snitch niggas
    Guess he jealous 'cause I had his favorite ***** with us
    Big bucks, steppin' outta big trucks
    Steppin' on my feet, it'll get you ****ed up
    Got the squad with me and all they did was gimme love
    Foot Locker, twenty deep, a nigga spend a dub
    G-Wagen for my *****, that girl go live it up
    Death row, that's for these niggas, I'ma hit 'em up
    Makaveli, it's All Eyez on Me
    Pinkie rings, it's still M-O-B (M-M-M-Maybach Music)
    Yeah, heart just turned purple
    Three-sixty up front, it all comes full circle
    Class photographs, Sandy had me on my Urkel
    (I been tryin', tryin', tryin', tryin')
    Patty Mahomes 'bout to fall short a couple hunnid
    Signed, sealed, delivered, I ****ed the notary public
    She witnessed me sign off on some undeniable numbers
    Yeah, make a set sailin' Croatia to get a leverage
    Groundskeepers cuttin' the grass and clippin' the hedges
    I took two mill' out the cage down in the desert
    Matthew Maddocks called in the pit boss, double checkin'
    "The number's all good, just pay me, I'm at the Rondo"
    Real life, the whole fam' goons like Ralo
    One truck in front of me, one behind me to follow
    Lemme get a lemon pepper order, please
    You gotta have the link before you order these
    Dockin' jet skis in the Florida Keys
    We all grateful for Weezy, but no one more than me
    You just found a bottle with the messages
    These days, fame is disconnected from excellence
    Half the time, I gotta ask niggas what they profession is
    Ushered a generation in, these is where my confessions live
    I did brunch with the judge we appearin' before
    Private villas only, I don't go near a resort
    We want everything galore, not just Lira Galore
    For real, and my city love me like DeMar DeRozan
    I sent her the child support, she sent me the heart emoji
    They all say they love me, but they hardly know me
    Yeah, dropped him off at school, big day for my lil' man
    Recess hits, daddy prolly made another M
    School bell rings and I'm out there to get him again
    Yeah, teacher-parent meetings, wives get googly-eyed
    Regardless of what they husbands do to provide
    Askin' if I know Beyoncé and Nicki Minaj
    Of course, pull up to the front in the fleet of Suburbans
    Flooded French Immersion with the Secret Service
    Shit is so obvious, it defeats the purpose
    If this is your hobby, then come and meet your maker
    Champagne, ring bells in the streets of Jamaica
    Started at the crib, look how far this shit'll take ya
    Ross sittin' on two hunnid thirty-five acres
    And that's facts, Hamdah Mohammed like my third cousin (Facts)
    Manzoor Mohammed like my real brother (Facts)
    Dubai embrace me like a Emirati (Facts)
    All my Rolls Royces got a different body (Facts)
    Mansory, kitted out with every option (Facts)
    Lemme know if that's a problem (I been tryin', tryin', tryin', tryin')
    If you got a problem with me, gotta walk around it
    Used to say I had 'fore I got it, now I got it all
    And bein' honest, I don't really wanna talk about it
    And if I didn't have it, wouldn't wanna sulk about it
    I had it so long, I don't even celebrate it
    Negative thoughts don't even enter my inner matrix
    'Magine me still rappin' 'bout if I never made it
    Damn, not too many parallels left in our lives
    I mean, my crib look bigger through my son's eyes
    And the squad look bigger to the young guys
    And my **** feel better when you drunk, right?
    Spend nighttime starin' at the sunrise
    And my diamonds all hittin' like tie-dye
    Air Canada send a nigga when I die
    Y'all gon' have to fly in and do your fake cry
    First couple rows, you gon' see the real guys
    The ones that purchase they vehicles 'cause their trunk size
    The ones that look at other rappers like it's lunch time
    Watch on my wrist never showed me crunch time
    'Cause I ain't never let it come to that one time
    To be real, man, I never did one crime
    But none of my brothers could caption that line
    At all, kill me, that's talent God wasted
    Instant noodles, sriracha, I still taste it
    When mama was too tired to cook and we had the basics
    Now it's a movie, I'm back at Bellag', wasted
    Niggas love tryna put my back where the walls facin'
    Big body frames, wasn't into car racin'
    Me and Chubbs drive by, shorty heart racin'
    I always end up droppin' the top when it starts rainin'
    Livin' in the 6, eight weeks, sun blazin'
    After that, the killers just go into hibernation
    Damn, rest in peace Dolla Bill
    How I get a girl and girls still wanna holla still?
    How I'm so famous, gotta live where they hide the hills?
    Everybody that survive got survivor's guilt
    My label gotta prove they love me, gotta wire mills
    My boy kitchen's done, lookin' like a flour mill
    You niggas' faces lookin' like you drink sour milk
    And your albums like some motha****in' fire drills
    It's like this shit feels real, but it's never real (Yeah)