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lirik lagu pink lemonade – blockhead

[intro]
uh, yeah
yeah, uh

[verse]
mr. been balling, girl, i can’t call it
we uber eats, we ain’t going out
girl, stay in your place, stop showing out
mr. balling consistently balling (been balling)
i’m high as h*ll, b*tch, stop that talking
i’ma step in the building and talk my sh*t
drag my b*lls ’til they touch the floor
b*tch, i don’t know where i’m ’bout to go
mr. been balling, b*tch, you can call me neph
any time i do it, i do it my best
they ain’t pick up when i was called in connect
back the f*ck up, i’m parking a jet
they like, “neph, you should sign to 1017”
that last man broke, and he owed debt
look like tyrone davidson, keith sweat
glock got a small man complex
b*tch, i’m on the beat, and it’s getting hot, i’m sweating
this biscotti’ll bust your chest
six hour drive, b*tch
you not the judge, i don’t gotta lie, b*tch
bought white ones for my side b*tch
pocket rocket look like a stop sign
not a cigarillo, b*tch, this fronto
ar sound like, “dun*dun*dun*dun”
i want the smoke like lil mouse
step off in that b*tch like roll bounce
three point five, them b*tches is skating
juiceman, ayy, with the [?]
it’s top shelf, not no block work
aim it all night like the clock don’t work
i was popping before i was popping first
walk in that b*tch like, “who need dope?”
this moncler, not canadian goose
drive fast when i get on the booth
‘fore you get in this car, take them crocs off
get off my phone with that dumb sh*t
drinking hen’, dawg, i can’t quit
my b*tch tempurpedic mattress thick
my b*tch posturepedic mattress thick
“what you doing neph?” b*tch, i’m rapping
mr. balling aka [?] trapping
born in it, i had to adapt
get you k!lled by the facebook stat
take my kindness for weakness, slap the sh*t out you
i’ll get dr. phil k!lled
i’ma tell you life, how it’s real
i’m like jesus christ when he slid through jerusalem
look like kay flock when i’m booming ’em
in a moncler coat with a .40 in the back
glock come out like rabbit out the hats
step in that b*tch like, “what’s the word?”
glock sound like it got reverb
i k!ll sh*t like lil herb
they used to treat me like joe dirt
step in that b*tch like lil bibby
pop smoke with a lil’ bit of lil bibby
john wayne glock, i get jiggy
look at the opps like, “i can get jiggy with this”
kick a b*tch in the face with my balencis’
bags big, look like they 50
i told my momma, “f*ck section 8”
they can suck my d*ck [?]
these crack bags gon’ put food on the plate
investing myself, f*ck real*estate
dope taste like frank lucas cooked it
my left wrist was born in the ’80
that’s why auntie treat me like a baby
i talk to the animals like dr. doolittle
i talk to lions, they like, “how they understand you?”
uppercut the pot like i’m riyu
auntie hit the glass [?]
beat the pot, i black and blued it
i’m trapping, you know what i’m doing
more new york hats than bobby shmurda
be with n*ggas from the nineties more than bobby shmurda
slide through the nineties, see what’s up with jakes
b*tch, what you ’bout to eat?
up three days, i ain’t even sleep
bags look like fat sse
back up, you moving like jayrie
b*tch, i got homer simpson, d’oh!
this a moncler coat
i don’t believe young jeezy sold dope
pimp c said that n*gga was lying
sh*t’ll get ugly like beetlejuice
paint my face like beetlejuice
nappy ass hair like beetlejuice
glock related to the cognac family
thirty shots parts of the cognac family
big ass glock like rocket racoon
wrist like mike when he walked on the moon
b*tch, my audi sport plus plus
b*tch, don’t try to race me
politicians love me, but the judge hate me
trick daddy neph, i love the babies
they changed up, switched, but it didn’t faze me
feel like plies, running my momma crazy
dogsh*t records, i just came from cali
you want this zaza, send me your addy
i pull up like, “vroom*vroom*vroom”
gl!ck on me, barbarion day
slave owner trap, i’m your slave
b*tch, i picked cotton for this moncler
get caught with this gl!ck, that’s five years
step in that b*tch like teddy buckshot
i’m not that n*gga, you could take my ring
mad max, drugs would’ve been everywhere
slide through that b*tch like juan guan
step in that b*tch like, “shots fired”
glock hit his face, [?]
cut him off, lil’ [?] boy
side door look like we got juvie
this beat right here long as f*ck
tryna tell the engineer to hurry up
rest in peace jeremiah and fred the godson
told the engineer to chop me up
slide through the bronx like chopped cheese
b*tch from queens, she guyanese
she got green eyes, and she sniff coke
b*tch wan’ take a trip to barbados
dry ass steak, nasty potato
od on these drugs like i’m fredo
you broke, i’m not your escape though
been playing with guns since play*doh
my b*tch gon’ do what i say so
she like, “neph, i trust you ’cause you the one”
look her in the eye, tell her, “i’m not gon’ lead you on”
you the baddest, f*ck me alone
uh, megan good ain’t got sh*t on you, baby
bad b*tches used to play me
they broke as sh*t, on the couch and lazy
i should get us shirts that say, f*ck you pay me
don’t believe them, they fugazi
b*tch, didn’t i tell you that i’m hollow, me, danny phantom, and patrick swayze? b*tch
i’ll walk out your life in my white ones
glock sound like papoose
i look like tony hawk, b*tch
one shooter, look like a manuel stick
yeah, b*tch, i’m high
who the f*ck said crack don’t sell? type of n*ggas, they a godd*mn lie
[outro]
who said crack don’t sell?
who said*, who said crack don’t sell?
who said*, who*
who the f*ck said crack don’t sell?

- blockhead

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