Blast Off

Holy shit

[Verse 1 - D. Cannons]

Whether they believe it or not, I am the new Bay
And I’ma hit niggas harder than Bobby Boucher
This uzi will soufflé your toupee
If they ain’t learned about it, they finna learn today
Not on my level though, yeah my flow’s incredible
On these tracks I son you blockheads, I’m Mr. Geppetto, ho
I stand alone, there was nothing on top or under him
And I yack up bars like I swallowed a fucking jungle gym
All of my niggas we scheming to get to the top and to get all this green
And she loving the way that I’m speaking, I’m gleaming
She fiending for me and the kitty be creaming
I’m all about money and all about fam
Get on the grind, got to do what I can
Spitting that incredible shit for my fans
Get a little bit of money and them rubber bands
And a nigga get the money when I pass and go
I can shut a nigga down fast or slow
And the diamonds on my wrist look like a bag of snow
Finna pull up in the party pull a jazzy ho
Why these hating motherfuckers that be acting for
Make a nigga get a bag of dough
I be bagging hoes, keep a sack of po’
I ain’t bragging though, I’m just laughing though, look
Grade A Diamond Game Entertain, I’m the boss, bitch
When it comes to bitches, dicks in they mouth like gossip
Niggas talking about guns but never draw it
But this desert eagle got more kick than an ostrich
If you niggas ever fucking with I
For the fam bam, I’ma bust, do or die
And I gotta get it, swear to God I gotta get it
I’ma live it ‘till I touch the sky
I’m a Fairfield cat, got a little bit of cash
Gonna hit you in the back, wanna give me kitty cat
You ain’t never been a motherfucking nigga
Do it pretty for my city like that

[Verse 2 - Smoovie Baby]

Uh, hottest nigga breathing nigga, said that on my last one
AK got a long neck, boy we got giraffe guns
Black money military, go to war with pussy niggas
Punking boys left and right, ain’t no Ashton Kutcher neither
Murder music, if it’s beef I got the butcher cleaver
Tossing dough up in the air, you’d think I’m cooking pizza
Real nigga ‘till they put me in that shoe box
The trillest nigga speaking since 2Pac
I don’t know what you got, but boy I got a few hoes
She snort so much dope, the bitch’ll probably need a new nose
Black money business, but I ain’t got no suit on
These haters better catch up/ketchup, I’m getting Grey Poupon
I don’t save coupons, I’m balling like LeBron
If niggas feeling froggy, guess it’s time to play leap frog
Smoking on Keisha, now tell me do you see far?
I ride the beat perfect, I don’t ever take a detour
YSL cologne make them hoes wanna hug
Parents see her with a square but she want for a thug
How ironic in this chronic got me floating like a blimp over the stadium
Bitches trying to choose up on a pimp and want to stay with him
Choose my friends wisely, you know who my guys be
And don’t shit surprise me, ain’t grow up like no Cosby
Money in the bank and got a safe under the crib
Then I barbecue a nigga trying to grill steak and ribs
I’m as real as being real gets
This that wild wild west, you can call me Will Smith
And I speak what’s on my mind, thinking about a crime
Potato on the piece to make a sweet potato pie
With your mind on the pavement
Little brain fragments
Syrup got me leaning, yeah I’m stuck like a magnet
And I am not no doctor ‘cause I ain’t got no patients/patience
I put my city on like a bib and crustaceans
I’m wasted, but never wasting time
Spend a grip on the watch
And I get so much green, Mr. Grinch give me props
Fly young krill nigga, got blood from the Bayou
The first three letters spell Bay, now how are you?
Yeah, smashing on that bridge like I’m Vin Diesel
And I’m smoking that diesel, bumping some Ne-Yo
With a bad yellow bitch, no banana peel
Yellow diamond and she’s popping yellow Xanax pills
Yeah, tweaking hard, about to pop the weekend off
Young baby walk with hella bags when I leave them all
This that real shit, scared?
Don’t you get involved
You got a problem, bet it’s getting solved
Bang