Smino Freestyle | LA Leakers Freestyle #065

[Verse]
I know niggas off that glass like a bank shot
Layin' on they back bored
Glass in a ziploc
What you do the eighth for?
Mama raised a hustler
Swingin' the Lord's sword
Slammin' a Porsche door
Talkin' split so much, feel like I'm in divorce court
Niggas lettin' labels bitch 'em out they own song
Poor soul with that ol' bitch in my torso
I'm goin' up like the Lamborghini car doors, whoa
From the preacher's deacons to bloods in my community
They know it ain't peachy, the fuzz creepin' like puberty
Jumpin' for joy, jubilee, gruesomely treatin' you and me
We usually these types of foolery
But I mix all my vices quite like spices
Price is up, I got the bubble likе Sprite fizz
And that's a bargain, these vеrses no bargain
Pour up like I bartend, a king like Martin
Lawrence, mama crib, she let the fish burn
Spaghetti with the rolls that make me think 'bout my sister
For sure, niggas don't want Smino 'plyin' no pressure, boy
Zero gang, throw it up like I'm dry heavin'
Get the money, make it tumble like dry cleanin'
Niggas salty 'cause it's my season
Fuck that pocket watchin' partna
I'm an Audemars, might stop breathin'
I was alive, I'm way ahead of my time
She gave me head of all time, she in ahead of fime
I mean ahead of fame, I been playin' this wang
She say she single for the night, I got a pringle can pipe
And if she fly, I might even might sprinkle in a flight
Put that pussy on a birdie, tell her pack a overnight
Give me contact for emergency, tonight that pussy die
I kill it every time and then we brought it back to life, whoa
I'm thinkin' about movin' home, my daddy gettin' old
Still got that young soul, that's where I get that from
Used to shop secondhand clothes, smell like cigarette smoke
Grew up 'round niggerish folk, middle class niggerish folks
Hol' on