Yeah, yeah
(Beats by Choc)
Okay, drug pack lookin' like Hunter S. Thompson
Rap good as that kid outta Compton
And the money comin' in, that's constant
At Ruth's Chris, I don't eat at Red Lobster
Y'all need to quit that gossip
It don't write checks and it don't make profit
I'm on the road like a year-old tire
The tide's in my favor, I'm somewhere tropic
Yeah, p***y, I'm somewhere tropic
I ain't had Wi-Fi for three days, still I'm a trendin' topic
Yeah, p***y, I'm somewhere tropic
I ain't had Wi-Fi for three days, still I'm a trendin' topic
Okay, I'm really vibin'
No wonder all of his haters won't get beside him
I took a macro dose of livin' my dreams
And a micro of psilocybin
When I was broke, it was just schemin', connivin'
He get provoked after seein' where I've been
Could've been you if you put this much effort in
Ain't on the come up no more, I'm arrivin'
Yeah, y'all can't focus enough 'cause you busy decidin'
Knew I'd be rich when I came out the p***y
The doctor was holdin' a diamond
I dropped out of school
And told 'em, "I'm hustlin', I can't be doin' assignments"
Gettin' my tarot cards read
I've been a bald head 'cause it's all in alignment
Okay, I run laps lookin' like Usain Bolt
Put a p***y in a Liu Kang choke
Homie wanna beef with the big boys
'Til the big toys came out, now it's, "You can't smoke"
I done smoked DMT with my girl, saw fractals
Got the drive like I turned both axels
Did LSD once
And I saw what Eve was tryna see when she bit in that apple
Okay, drug pack lookin' like Hunter S. Thompson
Rap good as that kid outta Compton
And the money comin' in, that's constant
At Ruth's Chris, I don't eat at Red Lobster
Y'all need to quit that gossip
It don't write checks and it don't make profit
I'm on the road like a year-old tire
The tide's in my favor, I'm somewhere tropic
Yeah, p***y, I'm somewhere tropic
I ain't had Wi-Fi for three days, still I'm a trendin' topic
Yeah, p***y, I'm somewhere tropic
I ain't had Wi-Fi for three days, still I'm a trendin' topic
Okay, I busted a straight through the veil of reality
Ain't no bread in your pockets
It's like you dietin' and countin' the calories
Man, I hustle like no other
Picture them only payin' me salary
Had no potential, I pulled this shit outta me
Just to shit on all the people who doubted me
Yeah, and to wreak in front of people who proud of me
In the car spaceship
Reason why I'm in a whole different galaxy
I should've been in some academy
But I'm a rollin' stone like my daddy
The motorcycle tires all chrome
Your price sittin' low like the Caddy
Price on ya head if I want it
Chip off the block, I'm a stunter
Dice in the lobby at the Strat
Gotta make it stack before summer
Hit a motherfucker where it hurts
You could never hurt me, it's a bummer
And besides Weezy F
I'm the hardest rapper ever signed to Stunna
Drug pack lookin' like Hunter S. Thompson
Rap good as that kid outta Compton
And the money comin' in, that's constant
At Ruth's Chris, I don't eat at Red Lobster
Y'all need to quit that gossip
It don't write checks and it don't make profit
I'm on the road like a year-old tire
The tide's in my favor, I'm somewhere tropic
Yeah, p***y, I'm somewhere tropic
I ain't had Wi-Fi for three days, still I'm a trendin' topic
Yeah, p***y, I'm somewhere tropic
I ain't had Wi-Fi for three days, still I'm a trendin' topic
---
Fear and Loathing in Los Angeles - Caskey and Tony Choc
