Surf Swag

KE on the Track

No Ceilings

Ah
O-o-okay

I got this chrome on this Bugatti, I'm strong in this Bugatti
Two V8s, ain't no such thing as driving calm in this Bugatti
Bitch I'm bad, I'm worse, I'll pass the purp'
Don't fuck with me 'cause right now I'm higher than Captain Kurk

I swear, I be the sickest nigga, you can ask the nurse
And if you throw it in the bag, I bet I'll snatch her purse
Okay, I spazz, I curse
You last, I'm first
I'm on your ass like dirt
Behind that cash, get murk

I'm talkin' big shit nigga, join my hit list nigga
What's the matter? check your bladder I'm the shit, piss, nigga
Shoot the witness, nigga
Hold court in the streets and convict this nigga
Ol' dickless nigga

Man, I'm runnin' with the blocka
Young Money motherfucker
You think we gon' do our thing? Well, ain't it sunny in the summer?
And we coming for the commas and whoever among us
And you know I'ma bust my ass until my crew very humongous

I said, T.I., hold your head, and Mack, hold your head
Wish I could but I can't say some other names 'cause of the Feds
And to my bloods, cold red
Man you know how we plead
And if it cost to be the boss, oh, well I guess I gotta pay

I-I'm a New Orleans nigga, I don't take no shit
Take the brain off the whip now it don't make no sense
Stunt hard on these bitches I ain't promise tomorrow
Now, women kicking it with me like Nomar Garciaparra

Fuq' roll them killer plants, the Little Shop of Horror
And we roll them bitches thick
Make 'em look like Toccara
Man, I'm to much for these niggas, and three much for these hoes
The World is in my hands, and I keep my hands closed

I love my baby mommas, they get my highest honor
Gotta take care of them kids, man, I know you heard Obama
And I live on an island, Atlantic in my backyard
I just tell my pilot to land it in my backyard

Quarterback shot gun, you don't get any sack yards
Bitch, I ball hard, breakin' all the backboards
Pretty boy Floyd step up I will crack yours
And even at the White House we pull up at the back doors

Walk around like I'm 30 feet tall
Tiger Woods all these hoes tryna birdie these balls
In the Porche 911, like emergency calls
Man, I just be chillin', I'm cool like Lou Rawls

Young Money in the building, I'm puttin' up new walls
Nigga take your Mrs. Officer and set some new laws
My flow is like rubbin' two logs
Young Mula, we the new shit, new drawers, uh

Now get off my dick, I ain't fucking wit' you
Watch me shoot to the bank, I'm a money pistol
Weezy beat the beat up like Sonny Liston
Redbone do me good then her friend assist her

I mean her bitch, she never met her best friends a sister
I leave the pussy micro-soft like Windows Vista
Young Tunechi, pop that coochie for a goon, hoe
Bullet in you boys' memory, now you act like you don't know

Eastside who I do it for, Eagle Street, right by the store
Katrina wiped the city out but couldn't fuck with Hollygrove
Lost some real niggas I knew from a long time ago
But Heaven or hell, I'm hopin' that they be where I'm'a go

Take a nigga gal and make her come give me a private show
Still long hair, don't care, like a Navajo
I'm the hardest shit, go in your ass and search
I smash this verse, and I swag and surf

No Ceilings
Hahaha



Credits
Writer(s): Dwayne Carter, Kevin Michael Erondu, Jared Rice, Sedarius Spearman, Keishaun Patrick Watts, Alviticus Bryant, Michael Jr. Gordon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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