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Robes (Alex Goose Instrumental Remix)
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Letra
And without further ado
The guys and I are going to, like, ten-four
You ain't shit if you ain't never struggled
You gotta put in hard work before you flex your muscles
I see where niggas fall off tryna perfect the puzzle
You ain't gotta like my work, shit, respect my hustle
I was a solid-hearted mind before I had to grind my swag refined
I never had to pack my lines with plastic rhymes
Diamond in the rough, give it time, you'll find your light and shine
This little light of mine, these are our highest times
With my third eye divine, I see my skies aligned
I feel like one with the moon, but that's some other shit
I stopped caring how people see me and I'm loving it
With no desire for your input, I does my shit
Say what you want, but know my ignorance is fucking bliss
Pardon the sense
Checking press releases off the beeper like a pimp
Smang a leaver off the string, threw his demons off the cliff
The scenic route below, tires screaming in the mist
And like the key open the door, I twist
The weed I bought because I don't know how to cope with shit
Be easy, I could three-hit him right where his shoulders sit
Maneuver through the swamp like a four-wheeler
Hitting it quickly after a coarse greeting
Leave like the father I never had or a low Caesar
The son he had but ain't ever wanted like cold pizza
Skull and bones out the same closet I grow reefer
The team eating, cold-hearted, spit feces
Tell that nigga I played the harmonica on this shit
I'm about to rap drunk, alright
I'm one take, you be the...
Uh, fuck every rapper and his entourage
Fuck up the stage and blow dodi smoke on his bodyguard
Nothing but Cutlasses, Cadillac coupes in my garage
Make foreign bread, get some morning head on the Autobahn
Faces, smiling faces, they keep me motivated
And I got plenty fans, but I ain't shit without my haters
Know this pussy A&R that threw some bullshit 'cross the table
Been that shit, I still be rapping
And he be fired from his label, damn
Bitch, I'm in the mob, I always got a job
Breaking down that Keisha, getting Brandon Marshall for the quad
Brett Favre for the zone, five bands for the ho
Wrist piece solid gold, neckpiece Art of Fro
Give you the smarts and the parts and hearts of regarding hoes
He chase a bitch, but I was chose
I only think of you on two occasions
That's when I'm drunk and when I'm blazing up
My Filipino bitch, she fly me to LA to fuck
I weigh my options, I'd rather be cooking
Cutting, and weighing up, bitch
It's Gibbs
Well, um
I guess this song about to come to an end here
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