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Starlito – For The Culture lyrics
FN should give me and this nigga an endorsement
Yea, we in this bitch
Passin' blunts like the three man weave
Hit my peace, shift the weed to the Air BnB
I just get off the phone with Roy
Told him we gon' to leave
Let's start this BN war
Step brothers CMG
Fell asleep on the jig
30 racks on my swiss
Used to write my raps like the inner trap
When I was serving packs in the jigs
Wake up on the trap and with a dirty strap
You get murdered by my respect
Fuck the three O 3:15
Yea, but what our eyes are Mars
Times was hard, I grindin' hard
Free my dawg behind them bars (Free Roy whaaddup nigga)
Go ahead, matter a fact, bet I file a nine, abort
Where's my porn?
I forgot I'm on them bars karate in the garage
Kickin' shit like moonshine
I come from bagin' up cutie pies
I can throw you a few extra dollars right fast
All you gotta do is drive
Say my name that's suicide
(What up Trip) New addition, nigga cool it now
A couple niggas with me is way too over-zeaulous to shoot it out
You keep poppin' off only going to make it that much harder to talkin' 'em down
You keep betting, you have a bullet waiting on ya next time you coming to town
But hey you ain't gotta listen to me
I sell more bags than Lipton tea
It's the first week of February
Still I ain't took down my Christmas tree
The album next, but this for free (Stepbrothers)
Cash, 225 on the dash
What's the use if not drivin' it fast
Don't do hookah, but I smoke the gas
Manuever through Uber with bags, to grind like I'm down to my last
Ridin' 'round town with a pound and a strap
And a bitch that will fly off her ass
Riding around with a K in my trunk and the babe look like 9 in my lap
I get a check in the mail every month
But I grind like I'm down to my last
Getting to the bread no matter what
Swing on a nigga like batter up
All that rap shit is cool and all
Until you make the nigga have to back it up
I was strapped as fuck, yeah I had it tucked
Way back when bro rapping that's what's up
Shotty wit me, Elmer Fudd
I be spittin' like Daffy Duck
Thot bitches out to get me
Can't forget to wrap it up
I fucked Cashville up, right after Buck
I'm still stackin' it up, 'cause I ain't had enough
Road to riches, bitch fasten up
Keep hands and feet inside the ride
Old bitch ain't cook at all
Had to fall back like like baptize, baptism
Back and forth like badminton
Countin' up every last digit and we strapped like ass whippings
God speed
Yea, we in this bitch
Passin' blunts like the three man weave
Hit my peace, shift the weed to the Air BnB
I just get off the phone with Roy
Told him we gon' to leave
Let's start this BN war
Step brothers CMG
Fell asleep on the jig
30 racks on my swiss
Used to write my raps like the inner trap
When I was serving packs in the jigs
Wake up on the trap and with a dirty strap
You get murdered by my respect
Fuck the three O 3:15
Yea, but what our eyes are Mars
Times was hard, I grindin' hard
Free my dawg behind them bars (Free Roy whaaddup nigga)
Go ahead, matter a fact, bet I file a nine, abort
Where's my porn?
I forgot I'm on them bars karate in the garage
Kickin' shit like moonshine
I come from bagin' up cutie pies
I can throw you a few extra dollars right fast
All you gotta do is drive
Say my name that's suicide
(What up Trip) New addition, nigga cool it now
A couple niggas with me is way too over-zeaulous to shoot it out
You keep poppin' off only going to make it that much harder to talkin' 'em down
You keep betting, you have a bullet waiting on ya next time you coming to town
But hey you ain't gotta listen to me
I sell more bags than Lipton tea
It's the first week of February
Still I ain't took down my Christmas tree
The album next, but this for free (Stepbrothers)
Cash, 225 on the dash
What's the use if not drivin' it fast
Don't do hookah, but I smoke the gas
Manuever through Uber with bags, to grind like I'm down to my last
Ridin' 'round town with a pound and a strap
And a bitch that will fly off her ass
Riding around with a K in my trunk and the babe look like 9 in my lap
I get a check in the mail every month
But I grind like I'm down to my last
Getting to the bread no matter what
Swing on a nigga like batter up
All that rap shit is cool and all
Until you make the nigga have to back it up
I was strapped as fuck, yeah I had it tucked
Way back when bro rapping that's what's up
Shotty wit me, Elmer Fudd
I be spittin' like Daffy Duck
Thot bitches out to get me
Can't forget to wrap it up
I fucked Cashville up, right after Buck
I'm still stackin' it up, 'cause I ain't had enough
Road to riches, bitch fasten up
Keep hands and feet inside the ride
Old bitch ain't cook at all
Had to fall back like like baptize, baptism
Back and forth like badminton
Countin' up every last digit and we strapped like ass whippings
God speed
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/s/starlito/for_the_culture.html