Testo di Oleg’s Flight (feat. Fashawn)

This is dedicated to you, the halfway crook Poking bitches on Facebook Same lame get his chain took I throw flames let his frame cook Glad bags and black mags is the season Mothafucka I don't get mad, I get even Burning the devil's, lettuce out the Garden of Eden 20 deep in the park, pardon my heathens We all here, Grizzy Gang playing your pallbearers I support the right to arm bears Long stares, I'll lift you out your lawn chair Nigga, better keep 'em calm when the Don's near This is cloud rap off a loud pack Committing foul acts with a wild batch A game having, chain snatching Crime figures, you know, my niggas Fucking with [?] thugs Out to get scratch like a lottery ticket Never stopping my mission, nigga, uh It's only logic that I gotta be the mothafuckin' man If you could empathize with me then you would understand That I'm an over achiever, a born leader That was taught to never ever leave the house without a heater And for the dearly departed, pour out a couple liters And let 'em sink in the cement Niggas said that I graduated from scheming Well, maybe not, still California Dreaming A parking lot full of Impalas and Beamers A couple yachts, bitches swallowing my semen Shoe box full of dollars for no reason, I'm a problem Best believe it, vomit like I'm bulimic over something supersonic Kinda rhyming procedures, ironic My competition's just a bunch of juniors, Cuba Goodings [?], in fact life is Russian Roulette Only way to win, if you do it to death, it's F