Just Me And My Vocals

I fucked ‘er (she say)

I fucked ‘er (she say)

Boston to NY

Sammy

Born in ’87, a leo sent from heaven

Had a feeling since 11, it started, was fuckin’ destined

I run by paparazzi and these stairs are so irreverent

But they’ll hate me when they see me on TV, Johnny Deppin’

Flash to more flashes, shattered from all the glasses

Jackin’ coke in a mixture of what’s ever in his baggie

Shouts to Ruby Rivera, blockin’ me from the cameras

Openin’ doors for me faster than a Porsche Carrera

I swear that’s on my life man, now me and Johnny Siteman

My boss is straight gold, I don’t even need a hype man

Alright then, we good now

Got a air roof, with my best friends

My team sick, we don’t need shit

We wavy while you seasick

It’s crazy, why so serious?

People love me and they fear me, bitch

You stare and drinkin’ cranberry

What the fuck you on your period?

Bring more, we got that

Miley Cyrus, we on swag

They lick once, then fuck twice

The butch rained in a dollar cab

No allowance, we gon wait

I’m a boss just like I sip A

You droppin’ that ass a free tape

She could charge with MP3 rates

I know me, I’m just me

Sometimes we do act a team

Went from stealing with Benny to livin’ out my fuckin’ dreams

Think before you move your lips

That right there could sink the ships

We ain’t got no filter, takin’ turns, watch us sink your bitch

Truth pushin’ that Bogota

You ruled, your reign is over dawg

Private flights to Cote d’Ivoire

Rock star, no guitar

Them lights on, Lou Vuitton

Again, just me and my vocals

Answer to our platoon

With my fellaz

Just me and my vocals, with all this weed and all my Gs

But I ain’t a fuckin’ local

Did you think I was who these people goin’ fuckin’ loco

Got a euro, chick is so ho

I walk around on Broadway, everybody takin’ photos

Got a Swedish chick that don’t speak English

But I beat it like rainin’ Randy Coga

Talkin’ shit about the kid?

See to go ahead cuz we got ears yo

Whole album is solo, illmatic that motto

I mean Motto, press that button and follow that’s how we want y’all

Stacking up these numbers, bitches making me tumblers

Like “fuck yea, that’s Sammy Adams”

King of soundtracks of my summer

Got B major, got super dukes

I got skateboards, it’s a super truth

No state cops, we hit cops

Do it oldschool in this super loop

Call this Sammypalooza

You heard, you just look like losers

I’ve been at this 3 years

3 Years, yea that’s the truth bruh

You co-signin’, just gotta sign

You rock hotels and I stay Vermont

You number 2 slash number 10

I went number 1 on my first try

Dover Sammy so used now

Got a ill crew that you not in

Pack chicks off like I’m stocked in

I’m on the rebound like Rodman

Me and Gucci so Gucci

NYC the same Louie

I blew off across the radio after Antilantic sue me bitch

2 Fucks, I got you man

Live for me and my old fans

Got 2 girls, take over then open a private spot dance

Try to bring next to our X back

Fuck Cannon, fuck Kurt

We had it luck, Joe got sucked

Overall, bad luck

What DJ gon play since then?

Got ‘em all, no lies here

Time gon tell like an automat

Give me 2 months and I’m outta here

What? Ghat? Give me 2 months and I’m outta here

Yea