Paroles Surf Swag

Le - Par .

(KE on the track)
No Ceilings
Okay

I got this chrome on this Bugatti
I'm strong in this Bugatti
2 V8's 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 Kirk
I swear I be the sickest nigga, you can ask the nurse
And if you throw it in a 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 murked
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
Oh, dickless nigga
Man, I'm runnin' with the blocka
Young Money motherfucka'
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, code red
Man, you know how we play it
And if it cost to be the boss, oh well, I guess I gotta pay
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 wit me like Nomar Garciaparra
Fuque roll them killer plants, the Lil Tune Shop of Horror
And we roll them bitches thick, make them look like Tocara
Man, I'm too 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 mamas, 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 shotgun, 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 thirty feet tall
Tiger Woods, all these hoes tryna birdy these balls
And the Porsche 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 with ya
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 or sister
I leave the pussy micro soft like windows vista
Young Tunechi, pop that coochie for a goon, ho
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 wit Hollygrove
Lost some real niggas I knew from a long time ago
But heaven or hell, I'm hopin' that they be where I'ma 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

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Alviticus Bryant, Dwayne Carter, Jared Rice, Keishaun Patrick Watts, Kevin Michael Erondu, Michael Jr. Gordon, Sedarius Spearman