Smoke Bulga – Young Michael Lyrics

[Hook]
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
Plug call me penny loaf shawty
Plug call me penny loaf shawty

[Verse 1]
Whip the work up like I’m Joe Jackson
Keep one comin’ back I won’t tax you
White girl, call that Brook Shields
Got it cooked but got it raw still
Chain light the club like Mike’s glove
Try to run off nigga on the plug
You gon’ f**k around and get plugged
They gon’ find you somewhere in the trunk
Broke boy ain’t no drug dealer
Block got it looking like its thriller
Geekers lookin’ like the Walking Dead
Trap house, call it Neverland
Glock on the table with hella bands
And you know I got my brothers with me
And we rollin’ like the Jackson 5
Only difference, got them .45s

[Bridge]
Remember the times, remember the times
When we were f**ked up we was all on the grind
That could not fly
And that was the time that I made up my mind
That the girl was mine
Started hand to handing, niggas slangin’ dimes
Servin’ geekers, didn’t give a f**k if they was black or they white, huh

[Hook]
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
Plug call me penny loaf shawty
Plug call me penny loaf shawty

[Verse 2]
Pretty by the name of Billie Jean
She be tryin take my energy
But I told her “Hoe, the kid ain’t mine”
Only hit that bubba one time
Man in the mirror
Only one that I be scared of
My bitch she bad like she Mike in the Subway
Told my nigga we be ballin’ one day
Elvis daughter in the car with me
Never ever let the law get me
I’m a smooth criminal
Movin’ like niggas don’t
Take no risk that these niggas won’t
Love my brother, he went psycho
Started loading up the rifle
Left foot spinnin’ like he Michael
Bodies droppin’ like the world tour
Got my city building more morgues
Everytime a nigga go to war
Wheels of Fortune off that Vanna White
Could be whiter than “Dirty Diana” Mike
Momma alway told me Roc witchu’
But you gotta’ keep them Glocks witchu’
Niggas wanna kill you just for nothin’
Haters just wanna be starting something, yeah

[Hook]
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
I be steppin’ on white squares
Moonwalk on work just like I’m a young Michael
Plug call me penny loaf shawty
Plug call me penny loaf shawty

Joyner Lucas – Zeze (Freestyle) Lyrics

[Intro]
Ahh, shit
Joyner!

[Verse]
Yo, nigga’s saying, “What a great battle”
But you about to see a fucking snake rattle
Boy, you just a pony with a pink saddle
I’m truly sorry that you stuck inside of Drake’s shadow
When are you gon’ overcome? (Huh)
When are you gon’ level up?
When are you gon’ grow another foot? (Huh)
When are you gon’ show us that you number one? (When)
And everything that you accomplished in some years about to take me just a couple months
Don’t you think I’m bluffing neither
I thought you were tougher, eager (Damn)
How you almost signed to Justin Bieber?
You look like a fuckin’ beaver (Haha)
Ten years in the game but yo’ ass still sittin’ on the fucking bleachers
Boy, you just another diva (Just another diva)
Heard yo’ grandmama kicked you out the house screaming
“Tory, we don’t fucking need you”
Why yo’ daddy up and leave you? (Why)
I guess this is how they fucking treat you
And you my puppet, you my Cousin Skeeter
This ain’t what you wanted, they been waiting for it
I’m Joyner Lucas, what the fuck you niggas take me for
(What the fuck)
I pull up in a Demon but I kill Satan for it
If you want attention Tory you gon’ have to pay me for it
All these hoes love me but you sucker niggas hate me for it
You roll up on me, catch a shot at ya Mercedes door
The bullets fly, you recline like a La-Z-Boy
All you do is cry, you a child, you my baby boy
You call yourself Tory after The Notorious Big (Yeah)
Biggie turning in his grave when he hear yo’ shit
Don’t ever think that you could ever come compare yo’ shit
Little girls and kids only ones who feel yo’ shit
I skipped the plaques on my way to a Grammy
All your records soft and sweet, niggas think that you candy
Your niggas really convinced you that you think you can scare me
And you got identity issues, niggas think you a tranny, really? (Damn)
Tory tell us why you always gotta lie in your rhymes (Why)
I know keeping up with lies can get tiring sometimes
You not a G and deep down you wanna hide sometimes
Staring at the sunshine and start crying sometimes
Your real name is Daystar, you been dying to shine
And when you sing you kinda sound like you dying sometimes
You make the type of tracks that had me feelin’ silent inside
Nobody take you serious, put all the violence aside
Okay, let’s talk about your plagiarism that you hate to mention (Yeah)
Or talk about the hate you giving to the greats you dissing
(Let’s talk about it)
And that writer who wrote yo’ shit still ain’t get paid on that “Don’t Die” record
You should probably go pay that nigga (Yeah, man)
And how the fuck you talk about Kendrick when he a legend (Huh)
Then go bite the nigga style on your record right at the ending
On 4AM Flex 2 minutes and 50 seconds
Sound exactly like the Art of Peer Pressure, go take a listen
You inspired by the niggas you name dropped
Catch fire in the rain, no umbrella to shelter you and no rain drops
When I seen you on Flex, I gave props
But then we found out you stole Don Q shit from the train stop
You thought you were fly ’til the plane drop
Ugly motherfucker tryna stunt in a tank top
It’s no wonder why they used to feed yo’ ass with a slingshot
You my son, this the last time I’ll give you a Ring Pop
Sit down, you on punishment
And don’t get up until you see me
And don’t even think about touching that TV
No more video games, no more phone, no more 3D
No more radio or boombox for your weak ass CD
Matter of fact, give me your chains back and everything I bought you
You a disgrace to this family and everything I taught you
I hate to say it son but you make me sick
I should’a knew you weren’t shit when you came out with a baby dick
It’s no wonder why you pay for pussy
Tory you think you slick
All you do is lounge around the house all day like a lazy prick
Shit, highly disappointed in you son, I need some answers
How come you couldn’t follow in my steps and be a dancer?
Or maybe write a book like me or be somebody’s grandpa
Instead you wanna be a fucking rapper with some hair plugs
No more rapping, give me your pen and paper
No more lying to the people on how you the biggest gangster
Now hurry up and get your juicy out the refrigerator
You going to bed at eight o’clock and not a minute later
No, I don’t wanna hear it
No, let this be a lesson
Close your mouth and go into your room like I suggested
I’m a get real Joe Jackson in a second
Matter of fact, give me your toys, I’m adding that to the collection
I just did a show and got it lit ya little nigga
And my freestyles killing your originals nigga
Couldn’t name a bitch I couldn’t get ya little nigga
You a rebound, even Scottie Pippen know nigga
You ain’t from Toronto, put that on the Bible
I put six hollows in your Ferragamo
Nigga, you from Brampton, go spin the bottle
Bitch I’m from New England, me and Brady in the El Dorado
Now come get on my level, I’m hard as metal
I bomb the ghetto, I brought the shovel
I bury all of you little ninja turtles
You Donatello, you soft as jello
You must be going off that Amaretto
It’s hard to tell ’cause you soft as pillows
You fucking midget, I call you Elmo
I throw you out a fucking car window
I step all over your Margielas, you caught feelings
Yo’ heart spinning, my bars illing
I’m Bob Dylan, I’m John Lennon, I’m authentic
Your bars running no off limits
Don’t talk business, don’t talk, listen
I’m off this so you fuck this you fuck! Nigga

[Outro]
What, nigga
Fuck out my face nigga
Ayy nigga look
We gonna get one in, pause
Let’s not, let’s not do this back and forth shit no more
I, I think we know what’s up, you know
Ha ha ha, Joyner

CyHi The Prynce – God Bless Your Heart

[Verse 1]
I’m on the come up
Jump up, I pick my gun up
Joe Jackson with trapping, I beat the sun up
That’s just how I was brung up
Whippings, I got a bunch of
On Memorial Drive in the Cutlass
I’m bumping young bloods ([?])
Feel like I’m hitchhiking
Every flow is a thumbs up
I give you my spirit ’til all my niggas wrists is uncuffed
It’s hard to celebrate Christmas as a black man
‘Cause like ornaments on trees
That’s just how we was hung up
One love
MTV, this is unplugged
Stacking this cheese reminds me of momma’s lasagna
From crafting double entendres
The child of Coleman and Tanya
Just a gap-toothed genius
Word to my cousin Jelanda, uh
Twist up this ganja ’til I go over yonder
They say I got to much will like 24s on Hondas
I been sponsored off-white since ‘Ye lived in the [?]
Y’all niggas slow if that just dawned on you like kitchen soap

[Hook]
God bless your heart, ha
God bless your heart, yeah, huh
God bless your heart, yeah
Be thankful his mercy let us say all these precious thoughts
Yeah, God bless your heart

[Verse 2]
I came, I saw, I conquered like Ceaser said
"No time, Felicia," that’s what the overachiever said
"Cydel, you a Pyru," that’s what your teacher said
I wrote everything in red ’cause that’s what Jesus said
My thesis read
My partner fed fish scale to the whole village for a piece of bread
"Matthew was 14," that’s what the preacher plead
"Just a nigga in a Coupe," that’s what Yeezus said
Until you — reach the feds, ha
Cause those boys will hide your ass like an Easter egg
Niggas wet you while you sleeping, you just peed the bed
A fiending son on Death Row, I’ma die behind these bars
‘Cause when I put the pen to pad they should make them pen my pad
Put this shit on wax, how I used to dip and dab
Flipping half
I like my cars and my women fast
Bitches love my presence ’cause I got the Gift of Gab
My matriarch low mileage, I APR
I need my lady just like a brand new Mercedes car, ha
It’s ’bout your lineage, show ’em I’m not your guinea pig
Might fuck a midget and have twins, I’m tryna have too many kids
Not out of wedlock
Never had a scared pops
Worked three jobs over time at the sweatshop
I thought I was a good kid, well I guess not
A hot boy, juvenile was my next stop
Breaking through people windows stealing desktops
Just a bunch of big dummies Lemus the red fox
And I had a redbone who thought that she was headstrong
Had to yolk the bitch up cause she was egged on
By the best friend had me calling collect home
And she fucked my best partner knowing she dead wrong
It ain’t her fault, I was misguided and lead on
Huh, but I ain’t tripping

[Hook]
God bless your heart, ha
God bless your heart, yeah, huh
God bless your heart, yeah
Be thankful his mercy let us say all these precious thoughts
God bless your heart

Blackbear – Do Re Mi (Remix) (feat. Gucci Mane)

[Intro: blackbear & Gucci Mane]
Do, re, mi, fa, so
Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh
It’s Gucci
Do, re, mi, fa, so
Yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: blackbear]
Yeah, if I could go back to the day we met
I probably would just stay in bed
You run your mouth all over town
And this one goes out to the sound
Of breaking glass on my Range Rover
Pay me back or bitch, it’s over
All the presents I would send
Fuck my friends behind my shoulder
Next time I’ma stay asleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep, oh

[Pre-Chorus: blackbear]
And you got me thinking lately
Bitch, you crazy
And nothing’s ever good enough
I wrote a little song for ya
It go like

[Chorus: blackbear]
Do, re, mi, fa, so fuckin’ done with you, girl
So fuckin’ done with all the games you play
I ain’t no Tic-tac-toe
Send the X and O’s on another note
I’m do, re, mi, fa, so fuckin’ done with you, baby
So send the X and O’s on another note, I’m ghost
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh)

[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
Ha, it’s Guwop
Do re mi, baby, don’t play me
I’m a black beatle like Jimmy, Swae Lee
Screaming "Fuck 12" in my brand new V
Just bought a time piece for my new dime piece
When I’m balling, don’t stall it, put your all in
Stop talking, gotta crawl in before you walking
On the weekend, spending front end and the back end
Booty so big, got me thinking ’bout a lap dance
Dealing with these bitches like, "Damn, what happened?"
New thang, new frame, new eyelashes
Brand new swag, wearing brand new fashion
That’s what you get for doing all that camping
Blackbear with me and we in the state trapping
This’ll make a old legend start back rapping
This’ll make an ex-con start back trapping
I’ma beat it up like my name Joe Jackson
(It’s Gucci)

[Chorus: blackbear]
Do, re, mi, fa, so fuckin’ done with you, girl
So fuckin’ done with all the games you play
I ain’t no Tic-tac-toe
Send the X and O’s on another note
I’m do, re, mi, fa, so fuckin’ done with you, baby
So send the X and O’s on another note, I’m ghost
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh)

[Verse 3: blackbear]
If I could go back to the day we met
I probably would’ve stayed in bed
You wake up everyday
And make me feel like I’m incompetent
Designer shoes and Xanax tabs
Compliments your make-up bag
You never had to buy yourself a drink
‘Cause everybody want to tap that ass sometime

[Pre-Chorus: blackbear]
And you got me thinking lately
Bitch, you crazy
And nothing’s ever good enough
I wrote a little song for ya
It go like

[Chorus: blackbear]
Do, re, mi, fa, so fuckin’ done with you, girl
So fuckin’ done with all the games you play
I ain’t no Tic-tac-toe
Send the X and O’s on another note
I’m do, re, mi, fa, so fuckin’ done with you, baby
So send the X and O’s on another note, I’m ghost
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh)

[Outro: blackbear]
(So send the X and O’s on another note, I’m)
Do, re, mi, fa, so
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
So send the X and O’s on another note, I’m ghost