Tom Chambers Songtext
von Roc Marciano feat. Knowledge the Pirate
Tom Chambers Songtext
Don′t get in my way, don't get in my way
Don′t get in my way
Get in my way, shots from the AK
Shit gon' spray, if you get in my way
Don't get in my way, don′t get in my way
We don′t play, don't get in my way
Get in my way
The money green but now it′s blue
I'm a phenom
You feed lies to the youth
Still rock the cream Filas with the strings loose
Don′t think of me
When you mention these nincompoops
I'm the truth
Hit you and leave you nude
You could hula-hoop through a Froot Loop
The root of all evil′s the love of loot
But brothers wasn't moved
With stacks of hundreds in the duffel
You look lovable
Who ran off to be a couple
'Cause that′s what true lovers do
Fuck with no rubbers in the W
Can′t trust motherfuckers above the room
Why don't you get comfortable
And remove your running shoes
Run through these new dudes like
Some food Don′t get stuck in your tubes
I can smell the blood in the pool
Coming for wounds
Change the color of the lagoon hon'
I′m becoming cruel
Nothing's new under the sun and moon
It′s rough where I'm from
You might wanna take the gun to school
Only a fool would assume
That these thugs will adjust the rules
I'm sorry to bust your bubble
But I′m a stubborn mule
I refuse to coon for some fuckin′ views
Fly your head like a kite
Stretch the white when your bread light
Breath is life
They ain't salute Max until they gave him seventy-five
What good is the credit If you can′t get it while you alive
Uh, niggas love to dick ride when you die
It's just props, it ain′t a blow job my guy
Pops was wise, watch you idolize
You know what they say about an idle
Mind so Don't hop over the rightful line
Nigga
Don′t get in my way, don't get in my way
Don't get in my way, get in my way
The shots gon′ spray
If you get in my way, don′t get in my way
Don't get in my way
When it was 17 a gram
If you shave it right you can make a yard
Mix the yay′ with the baking soda
To make it hard
Michael Goyard on the scarf, that's a start
I play my hands like a card shark
Palm the ace of hearts
Made my mark without taking part
In the dark arts
We don′t partake in any cake
That's made with baking lard
In any shape or form
They some broads playing gangster lord
Chains on like whores
Put makeup on their flaws
If your source is a broad
Then we all on the same accord
No change of coin can
Put these boys on this train of thought
Uh, champagne corks on the court yo
Old lady play with my balls
′Cause I ain't one to make small talk
'Specially baby not while the game is on
Dog they say I′m the greatest
It′s not to be taken with a grain of salt
Uh, motherfucker that's a Fendi
I bust my gun ′til it's empty
100 round drum, this could be lengthy
MC′s are sent to me on one bent knee (kneel)
Heavy is the head they said when they met the king
Strawberry crush, red promethazine
Seventeen different revenue streams
I'm a much better pedigree
The last thing said to me from a enemy
Made me want to bulletproof everything
The type of shit we on
Who give a fuck
About your small town or them
Little blocks that you hustle on
I remain poised
My 40 cal′ make a loud noise
All my niggas is cocaine cowboys
Don't make me shoot up your one-horse town
Have intercourse with your bitch
Then drive my Porsche around
Have my enforcers lay my gangster down
72 ounces, a few pounds of loud
Any drama king keep a streetsweeper
To Control a crowd
Go to your local strip bar
Throw a couple thou'
Put some fiends on a corner
Have ′em handing samples out
Give your team 36 ounces
And tell ′em break it down
When the product's right
And the tick′ is good
You might see me in a hooptee
Supplying your hood
In the kitchen with them fumes
Couple fiends, dirty needles and spoons
Bitches in different rooms
Shittin' out balloons
I don′t think you niggas in tune
I'm on a different frequency
The streetsweeper don′t fit beneath the seat
The spliff we hit it it was dipped in PCP
Thieves stole bricks from the chief's teepee
Fleed the scene
But didn't get off squeaky clean
You must be completely green
My hood wild like Cabrini-Green
Shit don′t come easy
Everything you see is covered with graffiti
Your queen rubbed the meat
To summon a genie
Being of somewhat of a diety
She gon′ kneel to me like these Jesus feet
It's all written, this was preconceived
Even a priest gon′ crease his knees
To kiss the VV's and the pinky ring
Bonafide hustler
But I still chop the shotgun like a buzzcut
That′s for when push come to shove
You're thrown under the bus pretty much
It′s litty, this all come from the left titty bruh
Don′t get in my way
Get in my way, shots from the AK
Shit gon' spray, if you get in my way
Don't get in my way, don′t get in my way
We don′t play, don't get in my way
Get in my way
The money green but now it′s blue
I'm a phenom
You feed lies to the youth
Still rock the cream Filas with the strings loose
Don′t think of me
When you mention these nincompoops
I'm the truth
Hit you and leave you nude
You could hula-hoop through a Froot Loop
The root of all evil′s the love of loot
But brothers wasn't moved
With stacks of hundreds in the duffel
You look lovable
Who ran off to be a couple
'Cause that′s what true lovers do
Fuck with no rubbers in the W
Can′t trust motherfuckers above the room
Why don't you get comfortable
And remove your running shoes
Run through these new dudes like
Some food Don′t get stuck in your tubes
I can smell the blood in the pool
Coming for wounds
Change the color of the lagoon hon'
I′m becoming cruel
Nothing's new under the sun and moon
It′s rough where I'm from
You might wanna take the gun to school
Only a fool would assume
That these thugs will adjust the rules
I'm sorry to bust your bubble
But I′m a stubborn mule
I refuse to coon for some fuckin′ views
Fly your head like a kite
Stretch the white when your bread light
Breath is life
They ain't salute Max until they gave him seventy-five
What good is the credit If you can′t get it while you alive
Uh, niggas love to dick ride when you die
It's just props, it ain′t a blow job my guy
Pops was wise, watch you idolize
You know what they say about an idle
Mind so Don't hop over the rightful line
Nigga
Don′t get in my way, don't get in my way
Don't get in my way, get in my way
The shots gon′ spray
If you get in my way, don′t get in my way
Don't get in my way
When it was 17 a gram
If you shave it right you can make a yard
Mix the yay′ with the baking soda
To make it hard
Michael Goyard on the scarf, that's a start
I play my hands like a card shark
Palm the ace of hearts
Made my mark without taking part
In the dark arts
We don′t partake in any cake
That's made with baking lard
In any shape or form
They some broads playing gangster lord
Chains on like whores
Put makeup on their flaws
If your source is a broad
Then we all on the same accord
No change of coin can
Put these boys on this train of thought
Uh, champagne corks on the court yo
Old lady play with my balls
′Cause I ain't one to make small talk
'Specially baby not while the game is on
Dog they say I′m the greatest
It′s not to be taken with a grain of salt
Uh, motherfucker that's a Fendi
I bust my gun ′til it's empty
100 round drum, this could be lengthy
MC′s are sent to me on one bent knee (kneel)
Heavy is the head they said when they met the king
Strawberry crush, red promethazine
Seventeen different revenue streams
I'm a much better pedigree
The last thing said to me from a enemy
Made me want to bulletproof everything
The type of shit we on
Who give a fuck
About your small town or them
Little blocks that you hustle on
I remain poised
My 40 cal′ make a loud noise
All my niggas is cocaine cowboys
Don't make me shoot up your one-horse town
Have intercourse with your bitch
Then drive my Porsche around
Have my enforcers lay my gangster down
72 ounces, a few pounds of loud
Any drama king keep a streetsweeper
To Control a crowd
Go to your local strip bar
Throw a couple thou'
Put some fiends on a corner
Have ′em handing samples out
Give your team 36 ounces
And tell ′em break it down
When the product's right
And the tick′ is good
You might see me in a hooptee
Supplying your hood
In the kitchen with them fumes
Couple fiends, dirty needles and spoons
Bitches in different rooms
Shittin' out balloons
I don′t think you niggas in tune
I'm on a different frequency
The streetsweeper don′t fit beneath the seat
The spliff we hit it it was dipped in PCP
Thieves stole bricks from the chief's teepee
Fleed the scene
But didn't get off squeaky clean
You must be completely green
My hood wild like Cabrini-Green
Shit don′t come easy
Everything you see is covered with graffiti
Your queen rubbed the meat
To summon a genie
Being of somewhat of a diety
She gon′ kneel to me like these Jesus feet
It's all written, this was preconceived
Even a priest gon′ crease his knees
To kiss the VV's and the pinky ring
Bonafide hustler
But I still chop the shotgun like a buzzcut
That′s for when push come to shove
You're thrown under the bus pretty much
It′s litty, this all come from the left titty bruh
Writer(s): Rahkeim C Meyer, Richard Iverson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
