Jackson & Travolta (feat. Meyhem Lauren)

Rocking all green outfits, the budder look like sun chips

Suck my son's dick, we in the street like a bum's shit

Bury me on kissena

I'm riding low like a centipede in the beamer

Million-dollar belt, precious facial features

Acid in the fucking headband, get the bedpan

I'm shitting on myself, and you're the one who gotta clean it

While I lay there, just to get some ray-bans? Shit

800 Dollars just for play pants

Don't try to touch me with those aids hands

Raise my performance fee to 80 grand

Hipster bitches, they pussy smell like seitan

I'm glad I ate lamb

Smoke something

Got me fucking... Got me hot in here, man

Fuck, bitch, ah

Shit, yo

The kid caught herpes from the rabbi

Yacob from 165, with the bad eye

Drug deal transportation was a cab ride

Displayed on the mantle was a brass lion

Mass from ireland, give you a casket to lie up in

While an asian man play the violin

He was taught from age 2, never miss a note

Brought his sister in the bathroom to shit the coke out

I cop the audi with the poke out

700 Thousand dollars at the smokehouse

Drugs in my lungs, fuck

Fast money 'til we die, peep the resume

Hang-glide into the boat, get my cheddar notes

Keep the shotty in the leather coat

Motherfucker, better know

Many nights I shot dice in the drug den

My raps permeate from a thug's pen, and love when

I think about my purpose in life, keep soft mouths slurping precise

These bitches love us

We named pit bulls after hard liquor (hennessy!)

Turn the knife in the wound, make it scar thicker

Shit, we still wear jean shorts

Veteran, playing these mean sports

What up dab?

This ain't boom bap, homie it's doom rap

And your career shit couldn't compare with

Bronsoline and laurenivici, write fly

Rhymes and sky dive from mount fiji

That's word to my parachute

Old money still flows, last chapter loot

Firearms and novelty beverages

Keep drama riddled with hemorrhages

We good though