Bas, J.I.D — Fried Rice

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Текст Bas, J.I.D — Fried Rice

Decisions I be makin’ when I get impaired
Jamo and the ginger beer, I’m gettin’ there
Money in my pocket barely fit in there
But I fell in love with how it sit in there
Old bitches miss me, a hole in her soul
But I’m over it though, had to block me a number

We’re sorry
This from the latest collection, my boy
You can copy the wave when I drop in the summer
Fiends got the city up under the wing like it’s fried rice
I done died twice, I got nine lives, that means seven to spare
Vision blurry, but the hindsight always 20/20

I see Heaven and Hell
Yeah, just to bust up a sale
Yeah, tell ’em come and get me fuckin’ nonviolence when the nine flyin’
Hear her lullabyin’, make her sing like Adele
Heavy on me like a pelle
Singin’ off-key, get ’em off me
We on all streets for the money, niggas hit up Wall Street
Had them boys ringin’ the bell
Ain’t no Libra, but my scale ready if this rap shit ever fail
Get me hot

My borough taught me how to run a block
Confidence is quiet, I don’t talk a lot
I call my mama and I call the shots
I don’t call these bitches, they just talk a lot
Cop a couple toys and we can make a play
Now the driveway like a parking lot
«Beware the dogs» what the sign say
I did it my way, I did it my way

Decisions I be makin’ when I get impaired
Jamo and the ginger beer, I’m gettin’ there
Money in my pocket barely fit in there
But I fell in love with how it sit in there
Old bitches miss me, a hole in her soul
But I’m over it though, had to block me a number
Block block, uh, block, look
You got the gas, but it’s not like mine
She got that ass, but she not that fine
Don’t make a nigga laugh
I need the cash in the bag in advance
Before I grab any mic’ and a stand
Don’t make a nigga mad
Spazz the fuck out, all bad, I’m all Madden
I’m on a go route now, but I do all patterns
I’m with your ho right now, and she’s a tall glass

I’m a can full of whoop-yo-ass
A little .40 in the booking bag
I put a bullet in your lookin’ ass
Aw, baby, what is you doin’?

Been lookin’, askin’ for something you can work your ass off for
My nigga, grab it, go after it
I’m p-p-passionate, d-d-damagin’ my anatomy
Don’t get mad at me if I pass out while I’m ramblin’
I’m an animal, an anomaly

Mari-mari-marijuana, it’s the God in me, gotta be
A better way just to get away, takin’ the backstreet roads
A couple days, maybe, give or take (Yeah)
Baby, I’m gon’ get home
Uh, when I’m in the zone I’m in, I’m ignoring your phone call again
The phone, off the dome talk, your phone block, block
You’re on, switch off
The long lost lil’ nigga gettin’ it how he live, hol’ up
Decisions I be makin’ when I get impaired
Jamo and the ginger beer, I’m gettin’ there

Money in my pocket barely fit in there
But I fell in love with how it sit in there
Old bitches miss me, a hole in her soul
But I’m over it though, had to block me a number
This from the latest collection, my boy
You can copy the wave when I drop in the summer
Fiends got the city up under the wing like it’s fried rice
Like it’s fried rice
Boy, you can copy the wave when I drop in the summer
Fiends got the city up under the wing like it’s fried rice
Like it’s fried rice