Gaithersburg Freestyle Songtext
von Logic
Gaithersburg Freestyle Songtext
Suicide my doors
Fuckin′ all these hoes (yo, they call me DJBossPlayer)
All my chains, they glow, killing all these shows
Yeah (The hottest DJ in College Park history)
Suicide my doors, fucking all these hoes
(Right now)
I'm bringing you the chosen one out of Gaithersburg, Maryland)
All my chains
They glow, killing all these shows
Yeah (eighteen projects over ten years)
Suicide my doors, fucking all these hoes
(We′re taking it back to the basement)
All my chains, they glow, killing all these shows
Yeah (Big Lenbo, C Dot Castro)
Suicide my doors, fucking all these hoes
(The one and only 6ix and the motherfucking GOAT)
All my chains, they glow, killing all these shows
Yeah (Logic, it's 2011, y'all! yeah, uh)
Back to the beats, back to the streets, back with the heat
Motherfucker don′t rap indiscreet (back to the back to the)
Back to the beats, back to the streets, back with the heat
Motherfucker don′t rap indiscreet
I pack heat, drop bars at U Street
Float like a genie and I'm dropping bars at Bohemian
Bitches are here to be screaming, Bobby in the basement, dreaming
Me and my homies, we scheming, tryna get a dollar, we fiending, ah
I′m just tryna get it for the EBT, bitch, real niggas never switch
I run the game like a Switch, used to bus tables just for the tips
Now these bitches begging me for the tip of my dick
Watch out, I punch and roll over the kick
I got more stories than Slick
I got more stories than Rick
Motherfucker, take your pick
Pick me out of that lineup
Did the crime, yup, now my time's up
Got out the box and I got in my bag
Now all of these bad bitches try and fuck
′Cause I'm pulling up in the "what the fuck is that?"
Comin′ from where I'm from, gotta tuck the strap
Knuck if you buck, if you bust, I'm busting back
No one I trust enough, ′cause my love is tapped
Say that she want it to last, good luck with that
Bitch, I just want the racks, can′t text you back
'Cause my thumbs are too numb, I′ve been thumbing through cash
You niggas is bums, you rummage through trash
Throw a couple ones in your cup, then I dash
I'm one of one, but not the one that you wanna try to run up
Run up and I get you done up
When the summer come, you know I′ma sun up
Swear I'ma son a son just for the come-up
Need another lump, been fuckin′ these blunts up
Looked at the gun just for fuckin' my fun up
Pumping your gums, motherfucker, just shut up
Who fuckin' with that? I′m ready to bat
All about peace, so I stay with a gat
I stay strapped, but not for no money
I′m takin' it back, no takin′ it from me
You know it's a fact, I stay with the honeys
Up in that Impala, you wanna just holler
I stay with the bread, I stay with the toast
You motherfuckers out here doin′ the most
We do it for real, you front for the post (yeah)
Y'all niggas is gross
Man, fuck all that other shit that nigga talking about (talking about)
Don′t try to catch me and Vic', I'ma chalk them out (blaow)
Beefing is beefing, it ain′t shit to talk about
I want the smoke, you want the smoke (smoke)
I got a hundred-round drum in the chop′
And this shit get to rocking when I get the load (brrt)
I might just run up a hundred
And book me a nigga and really pull up to his show (go)
You niggas must be mistaken
The fuck is you takin', you thinkin′ 'bout robbing me? No (Bitch, no)
I′m with my youngins and we getting money (money)
This shit really nothin', I got it, you want it (phew)
It′s comin' in bricks
Smoking three-hundred to ship
I got your house on my wrist (phew)
I'm newly rich, so I might bounce in a minute (minute)
She call me "Babe" and I′m in it (in it)
I really get it, all of this money I′m spending
I act like this shit ain't no limit (woah)
Bitch, I′m with the gang, I'm rolling with gods (gods)
Just look in my eyes, you see that I′m high (high)
I'm rolling with slime (slime), you might see a .9 (.9)
I really come put this fact shit on your mind
The shit that I′m drinking three-hundred a line
But you got to suck it, you not even tryin' (mwah)
Meet me in a second, I'm pressing for time
Hold up, shorty boy gon′ go die, bitch (yeah, hm)
Who real as they come? (who real as they come?)
Been here a minute, but still isn′t done
The stable be killing shit, killing the rhyme
Can't handle my business, my feelings are done
Came out the mud, so the ceiling is none
3-0-1 where I′m from
Make a wrong turn, get killed with the pump
Young ADÉ, they know my name
In 2011, had Phil in the front
Now I'm in back of the back, my hat to the back
With your other half and some ′yac
She throwing it back like Manning, I'm planning on giving her back
Now how you gonna act? Do it too big, can′t minimize that
I live in iMacs, I'm getting my scratch
Life is a bitch, make her sit in my lap, I finished my rap
Fuckin′ all these hoes (yo, they call me DJBossPlayer)
All my chains, they glow, killing all these shows
Yeah (The hottest DJ in College Park history)
Suicide my doors, fucking all these hoes
(Right now)
I'm bringing you the chosen one out of Gaithersburg, Maryland)
All my chains
They glow, killing all these shows
Yeah (eighteen projects over ten years)
Suicide my doors, fucking all these hoes
(We′re taking it back to the basement)
All my chains, they glow, killing all these shows
Yeah (Big Lenbo, C Dot Castro)
Suicide my doors, fucking all these hoes
(The one and only 6ix and the motherfucking GOAT)
All my chains, they glow, killing all these shows
Yeah (Logic, it's 2011, y'all! yeah, uh)
Back to the beats, back to the streets, back with the heat
Motherfucker don′t rap indiscreet (back to the back to the)
Back to the beats, back to the streets, back with the heat
Motherfucker don′t rap indiscreet
I pack heat, drop bars at U Street
Float like a genie and I'm dropping bars at Bohemian
Bitches are here to be screaming, Bobby in the basement, dreaming
Me and my homies, we scheming, tryna get a dollar, we fiending, ah
I′m just tryna get it for the EBT, bitch, real niggas never switch
I run the game like a Switch, used to bus tables just for the tips
Now these bitches begging me for the tip of my dick
Watch out, I punch and roll over the kick
I got more stories than Slick
I got more stories than Rick
Motherfucker, take your pick
Pick me out of that lineup
Did the crime, yup, now my time's up
Got out the box and I got in my bag
Now all of these bad bitches try and fuck
′Cause I'm pulling up in the "what the fuck is that?"
Comin′ from where I'm from, gotta tuck the strap
Knuck if you buck, if you bust, I'm busting back
No one I trust enough, ′cause my love is tapped
Say that she want it to last, good luck with that
Bitch, I just want the racks, can′t text you back
'Cause my thumbs are too numb, I′ve been thumbing through cash
You niggas is bums, you rummage through trash
Throw a couple ones in your cup, then I dash
I'm one of one, but not the one that you wanna try to run up
Run up and I get you done up
When the summer come, you know I′ma sun up
Swear I'ma son a son just for the come-up
Need another lump, been fuckin′ these blunts up
Looked at the gun just for fuckin' my fun up
Pumping your gums, motherfucker, just shut up
Who fuckin' with that? I′m ready to bat
All about peace, so I stay with a gat
I stay strapped, but not for no money
I′m takin' it back, no takin′ it from me
You know it's a fact, I stay with the honeys
Up in that Impala, you wanna just holler
I stay with the bread, I stay with the toast
You motherfuckers out here doin′ the most
We do it for real, you front for the post (yeah)
Y'all niggas is gross
Man, fuck all that other shit that nigga talking about (talking about)
Don′t try to catch me and Vic', I'ma chalk them out (blaow)
Beefing is beefing, it ain′t shit to talk about
I want the smoke, you want the smoke (smoke)
I got a hundred-round drum in the chop′
And this shit get to rocking when I get the load (brrt)
I might just run up a hundred
And book me a nigga and really pull up to his show (go)
You niggas must be mistaken
The fuck is you takin', you thinkin′ 'bout robbing me? No (Bitch, no)
I′m with my youngins and we getting money (money)
This shit really nothin', I got it, you want it (phew)
It′s comin' in bricks
Smoking three-hundred to ship
I got your house on my wrist (phew)
I'm newly rich, so I might bounce in a minute (minute)
She call me "Babe" and I′m in it (in it)
I really get it, all of this money I′m spending
I act like this shit ain't no limit (woah)
Bitch, I′m with the gang, I'm rolling with gods (gods)
Just look in my eyes, you see that I′m high (high)
I'm rolling with slime (slime), you might see a .9 (.9)
I really come put this fact shit on your mind
The shit that I′m drinking three-hundred a line
But you got to suck it, you not even tryin' (mwah)
Meet me in a second, I'm pressing for time
Hold up, shorty boy gon′ go die, bitch (yeah, hm)
Who real as they come? (who real as they come?)
Been here a minute, but still isn′t done
The stable be killing shit, killing the rhyme
Can't handle my business, my feelings are done
Came out the mud, so the ceiling is none
3-0-1 where I′m from
Make a wrong turn, get killed with the pump
Young ADÉ, they know my name
In 2011, had Phil in the front
Now I'm in back of the back, my hat to the back
With your other half and some ′yac
She throwing it back like Manning, I'm planning on giving her back
Now how you gonna act? Do it too big, can′t minimize that
I live in iMacs, I'm getting my scratch
Life is a bitch, make her sit in my lap, I finished my rap
Writer(s): Robert Bryson Hall Ii, Arjun Ivatury, Julian Castro, Eugene Tsai, Leon David Ressalam, Philip Adetumbi, Martrel Reeves Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com