Rec-Room Therapy歌词

作词 : Adair, Chegwidden, Coles ...
A'ight now this is how we gonna do this ****

You know what I'm saying

****** wassn't out in the streets back then
When was doing this **** son
You know what I'm mean
Yeah check the story

I done flushed bags of powder down project toilets
You could of found of me on the steps dusted
Unable to call it
Jums in my pocket the rental was stolen tapping pockets
On the local drug dealers just to see what they holding
I know ****** with crack viles stuck to they colon
The acid done bubbled up
Now they stomach's is swollen
That just life in the hood
Surrounded class who we bag in our stash
The ultraviolet haze we hit it and pass
We toast to the ghost of old days
Yeah old ager hump
We rap renegades must stay paid
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Big fluffed out gooses on stan smiths
The housing cops can suck our ****s we jumping out
Of convertible matchbox ****s next drip inhaling
Chilling my throat frozen my orange brick
Bottles of cru'
******* with baby phats they swinging ax
They singing you still blinging
Daddy now bring it back

The smokest rap ***** honey
I'mma need A match
To bust the game wide open I'mma need an ax

I juggle this practice smuggle ****** in the cactus

Keep A hood I still go and **** A fat *****
Actress slinging the backs of five cleopatras
A ******* chef I stretch money like elastic negga
My raps is bigger dynamics with the muscle advantage
Jake cutler on dust when I blam ****
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Yo we been bagging since 18 kid
Polo rugs on with gloves on
Rented cars fronting on winning broads
Gum slow half moon leather pants avia' days

Keep your hands off my blunt and my waves
Beneton superman bomb

Everybody in the lobby we clapping
Hats on protecting your moms you know how we play
Spray something down if the team say
It's on I dedicate my lines to the pj's

Triple beams pyrex jars smoking nickle ****s
All we did is look mad fly icicle rings

Whatever homeboy you want it
You could get your receipt
A little closer
You can sense we got heat it's only me
Plus four other ill gangstas we all anxious
To blow up your block and spank shit
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Yo I'm down for the get down H
It the town sick the bloodhounds on 'em
I rip clowns I flip pounds I spit rounds
I'm on the prowl my stomach growl
Crushed by the crowd

Rush through loud records drop mushroom clouds
I'm not A rapper I'm spellbound I melt down
Your G-force with heat walks
Free falling to A better money bet he's hungry

Spread the honey big head inside the humvee

Mix lead inside my lungies
Spend bread on my dungarees

And such and such ghost plugged me with this slut
Don't hug me bug me I'm ugly when I ****
I'm hard like A jungle hunter bust off in heather
Double cross me lift your boss off your feet
'Course he's feather
Whatever whatever he cried indepence
Tennis players get fried
Playing both sides of the ends
Keep your eyes on your friends
Cuz they spy for the feds
Watch me rise from the dead
I got ties with the dreads

Get money get money
Get money ghost get money
Get money get money
Get money ghost get money ahh