September 7th

[Intro]
Ugh, ugh, okay, okay, ugh

[Verse 1]
September 7th, I be in the future
Off that line from the gutter, Drake and Future, ugh
The seats butter and the paint is stupid
Yeah that bitch sittin' fat lookin' like Rasputia, wait
I'm day dreamin', where the time go
Karate chopping bricks like I'm Tong Po
Karate kid crane kick front door
Turn a well known hitter to a John Doe
Head honcho, bitches call me Sancho
I'm all about my queso like Libre, Nacho
Fast lane pronto, double cup slow-mo
Erthang Skanless, mug shot for the promo
I spent my whole life duckin' popo
Cuz once they got your photo it's ugly as Quasimodo
E'rybody askin' what I'm trippin' for
Cuz I'm greezy like Louisiana river boats
What they hittin' for, henny I be sippin' on
Henny I be pourin' out for all my niggas dead and gone
You better find a good bitch, make sure that she head strong
Make sure that her head dope and love you when ya bread gone
But all ya homies love you when your bread long
Them the same niggas want ya head gone
Prayin' for my downfall, freeze frame, fuck y'all
Rewind that, that's on me, I ain't never trust y'all
Yeah nigga that's real talk, that's real rap, that's real shit
And I fast forward that real shit, where e'rybody that's real went
I'm still here with the same troops they day one
No new niggas but if you with us then you A1
Space Jam, ray guns, my guns look like play guns
We treat work like Play-Doh, we stretch that and make play dough
We go hard like playoffs, hit Greystone's, hit Playhouse
We don't go in we just sit back and follow drunk march back to they house, ugh
Yahtzee, Bingo
Big chips like Pringles, Big chips like Plinko
I shoot clutch like free-throws in a tie game and the clock gone
If I shoot twice and I score once, yellow tape my team on, ugh, ugh
No guts no glory, you save hoes like Maury, I play hoes like Sorry
Push button that start him, big Gs like Jordy
Twelve dated like Rodgers, street monster like Blanka
Smooth plug on the blanco, but I need a bitch like blanco
I find her Imma go gorilla, King Kong, Congo
Punchlines like combos, turn studios into dojos
Turn condos into porn huts, square bitches they born sluts
Dumb bitches get laced up, no tennis shoes, throw heels on em
That's Backpage, that's concrete, fifty toes that's a five piece
Roscoe's number nine meat with the plenty syrup and the ice tea
Fuck Nino Brown like G-Money, I love coco ice tea
Spice one, Bossalini, yeah bitch I'm from kill street
The killa gang, no killa block with a C-O-D kill-streak
Imma live life till they kill me, earn stripes till they feel me
My mind gone I need an operation, head doctor come heal me
My record long and it's filthy, I just wanna live wealthy
By any means Imma get the cream, Imma keep it trill like Bun B
One mic, one P, one key, one beat
That's all I need in this life of mine, in this life of rhyme that's on me
Kill em