Dave Freestyle | Justin Credible’s Freestyle #227 versuri

Versuri Dave – Dave Freestyle | Justin Credible’s Freestyle #227 lyrics

[Intro: Dave]
Yeah, yeah

[Verse: Dave & Justin Credible]
Thin line between history and hysteria
Never judge a car or woman by the exterior
Range Rover, leather interior, superior
I could be afraid, but I could never be inferior
Anglo arms on my Prada cross-body
I’m a lost boy, I need deliverance ASAP
We all know animals, yours are stray cats, mine are A-Cats
We got the food here, but it started in estates like Shake Shack
Somehow, I still put the laid in laidback
It’s like Lipton, they’rе tryna put the boys in a T pack
Opps see us on the map, they got an orbital VSAT
TST, I’m comin’ in with thе street team
It’s fucked up how a man killed Lonely
We used to both kick ball for our college’s B-team
We used to just talk about girls in the canteen
Some days, I feel like I’m chasin’ a bad dream
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
My toes black, I got gangrene
Jumped out of bed like I slept on a tramp’line
‘Cause tryna get this money, it’s the way that I’m programmed
Pray that somebody find warmth in my cold hands, I don’t like slow jams
‘Cause I feel like I don’t deserve romance
My mind is fucked up, my grind is fucked up
Absent dad, can’t miss what you never had
But then again, people born blind still wonder
I’ve got niggas inside, so my perception of time is fucked up
I feel like my spine is fucked up, I’m schizophrenic, I still might switch
If I pass down my hustle, I can leave my kids nothin’ and they still be rich (Ooh, that’s cold)
Even Ace still needs Mitch (Let’s go)
I done made eight figures off recordin’ these bars (Mm), and tourin’ with stars
I need antidepressants for the doors on my cars
I need antidepressants for my hollowin’ heart, listen
You ain’t gotta like me, you ain’t gotta respect me (Come on), you ain’t gotta accept me (Come on)
But you gotta expect me, don’t let it affect me
‘Cause when I couldn’t stand, it was God that kept me
Even with a bad knee, I’m still a king like Ledley
I got robbed by Wesley (Woo), I was overly friendly, and look where that led me
Success made my own biggest supporters resent me
And the people that I grind with, the people that left me (I like that, I like that)
And free Jollie, that’s sodium on cocaine (Mm)
He’s known for changin’ a key like John Coltrane
How ‘bout I lick you then rap about it on my page?
All of a sudden, you’re a bar like— huh (Ooh)
My combo’s fake, from the moment I wake
Diabetic, but I’m grindin’ like I got no cake
I crashed the car I designed, and it does make sense
If it’s anything like me, then it got no brakes
Fought knife crime and had mine on me, in case
Guess that I’m a bad preacher like T.D. Jakes
We couldn’t mix if you had CDJs, I got afraid
But honestly, I’m glad it wasn’t GBH (Come on)
I want a good life (Yeah), Is that overzealous?
I want the steak with the venison, house in Venice, Iwant the gates and terrace
My comedown’s mighty, make cocaine jealous, I’m pain embellished
How the fuck I’m ever gonna see my crew do better
With muskets that look like vuvuzelas?
Two Nutellas (Woo), chocolate, her heart is precious
She bad, and her neck fucked like Carlos Tevez, uh
Just lookin’ for a bad bitch who eat her rice and cabbage (Let’s go)
My life was savage, escape that with minor damage (Come on)
Nowadays, I move solo, book a flight to Paris, uh (Mm)
I carry luggage, I don’t carry baggage
Before I made it happen, and my life was lavish
It took a turn for the worst, but that’s a rite of passage
Lamborghini black, Spyder, it’s a Miles Morales
Gymkhana for a curry, that ain’t hard to manage
We do Indian when it suits her, like Kamala Harris
But underneath the fame, I find it hard to manage, heart is damaged
I’m tellin’ you, my heart is damaged
It’s like I’m starin’ at the ceiling but the glass is shattered, I swear
Tryna stay sane, that’s the hardest— (Crazy)
There’s no evadin’ that
I went to dinner with a weapon, and there’s no escapin’ that
I ain’t even bein’ sassy, but I really ate with that
I had dreams of me breakin’ America
We linked with Jay-Z, did sunset dinners with James Blake
How you gettin’ money and you’re still in the same place?
When I was in the ends, I never did it to save face
There’s light at the end of the tunnel, but I’m in love with the dark
It’s all I had when I was strugglin’ hard
This ain’t 2016, bro, you’re stuck in the past
You can’t see that we’re stuck in the charts, and we’re stuck in their hearts?
And the women and the wine are both comin’ from France?
I ain’t even gotta ask, you’re gonna come with a glance
See a baller grab his bitch when I walked in the dance
He did a good job guardin’ her, he’s waterin’ plants
This Howardena that I’m puttin’ on a wall in my yard
It’s like a restaurant, it’s shit that you would call in advance
I got the masters, I ain’t have to hit a ball in the grass
It’s no wonder why they call me a star
It’s no wonder why you hate me with all of your heart
One click, and I order the car, or I’ll order them all
Or I order the— fuck it, I’ll just get to the point
I’m twenty-seven now, I feel like—
Niggas been sayin’ that I deserve it
From when it was servin’ and we had our gas guns converted
Fast forward, now, it’s— I’m willin’ to purchase
I know shit looks sweet on the surface
Have you ever bought— just to manage the morale of your workers?
Attempted murders, monkeys, birds
We’ve got gorillas in the cage, just like I’m runnin’ the circus
I got arrested for possession, and I wouldn’t even look at your bitch twice or think twice
The drink nice, so my plug, he’s calm
Really made a name here flyin’ women abroad
And puttin’ models in coach like I’m Lillian Cahn
I got a good couple million, aw, but who’s counting?
Not me, I lost out, I’m a man of my word (Mm, let’s go, Dave is here)
I’m a fan of your work (Yes), I would’ve loved that campaign, but I ain’t wearin’ a skirt
The black man must have a voice, you nuh guh have a choice
Could give a fuck if it’s fashion, you can’t emasculate me, nah
Fuck that, the .16 gonna handle it
You can hold a poke in two legs, it’s on aggregate
Wifey, if I’m bein’ candid, I got candidates
I don’t give a fuck if her pussy shaven, I’m grown now
Fat pussy, Nadia, hit me with a landin’ strip, we in LaGuardia
I taught her what she knows, so we apart, I’m still a part of her
Trust me, you aren’t a failure
We had Class B for sale before dark and flavours
Made a killin’ in those glasses like De’arra Taylor
If you’re bitch-headed too, you tell my dargie Taylor
Hit a nigga, racks will follow suit like my darg a tailor
La Bodega Negra, I can show you how to make a hater
But first, you gotta be a worker, I had to be a worker
Justice Cash, he the villain, we don’t need another hero, ask Tina Turner
I don’t fuck with Insta models cah they’re too entitled
And they cum quick, but that’s another story
She can’t even hold the wood, or hold the suttin’ for me
And you want a CC bag? Babe, I ain’t even that
You’re dead wrong if you think you’re graduatin’ a class
I’m goin’ Peppers in Brooklyn, no need to serve me
I like my women from the Bronx, cuh them girls are dirty
She ain’t even flexible, she had to 7:30
Said I like her hair straight, but it’s better curly
I see ‘em talkin’ on the net, but it don’t ever hurt me
I buy my girl the same bag in every colourway
And then I get her spares, just in case she ever loses one (Goin’ crazy! Dave)
So imagine what I’m puttin’ on your— when my shooters come (Talk about it, talk about it)
Yeah, yeah