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lirik lagu talk crazy pt2 – rj lamont

[intro]
f*ck the fire, we got grease
it’s a wayne beat
b*tch, ha ghetto boy sh*t
rj always trippin’ man, rj always trippin’ man
hey
it’s pablo

[verse]
we don’t speak on opps no more cause they broke
i’m spitting straight drop, you could cook it on the stove
i’d rather make a play than have some p*ssy on the floor
i’m laid back but i could act boosie on a hoe
i’m on the edge, if a n*gga push me i’m on go
will this rap sh*t take me out the hood? i don’t know
i done touched a hundred k but back then i was broke
lil’ nasty b*tch say she got her friend on the floor
f color vs1 diamonds what i rock
i just scored a pint of techy, already found me a pop
i just kicked the door down, i had to find me a spot
i’ll love a b*tch forever if she buy me a glock
i’m riding grand cherokee with the rose gold trim
i’m finna slide down on a pack of hoes to go fishing
i don’t give a f*ck about what you done made, that’s yo’ business
type of n*gga to buy a brand new car just to smoke in it
ever since i threw these diamonds in my mouth, the hoes trippin’
do the speed limit, ride yo’ own lane, the road different
break a b*tch for everything she got, no pimping
ran in the crib, k!ll everything, left no witness
six chains on right now and i ain’t signing sh*t
i just might be single forever, i can’t find a b*tch
you n*ggas need to quit selling dope if you can’t buy a brick
cause i done made a hundred off the rap, n*gga times six
48 thousand on the watch, that’s time spent
my brother tapped in to the rap, n*gga times in
back in 08′ was getting high with my blind friend
i’m not taking one for the team, i want the fine friend
i f*cked on her like i ain’t have no p*ssy in a week
i hang with real shooters, they’ll come and cook you for some cheese
you want me to come and rap, well n*gga book me for some cheese
a lot of ice around my neck, i think it’s 17 degrees
get the load in, break it down, then move
n*ggas ain’t got no hustle, when it come to money they be clueless
i know a n*gga up 100 million dollars, think he jewish
i’m finna re*wrap my old school, make it blue*ish
pockets full with hundreds on me, old ones and the new ones
b*tch cut into me like i wanna f*ck, i’m a cougar
said i’m young but i can teach you some new sh*t, i’m a tutor
you ain’t never know i had the bl!ck’ cause i’m the shooter
stripper b*tch wanna f*ck me bad, imma spin her
sh*t i got a lot of pap’ with no kids, i’m a winner
getting money make me feel full, f*ck a dinner
lord forgive me for the sh*t back in the past, i’m a sinner
still will hop out and get on n*ggas ass, no pretender
hit the strip club, made that b*tch snow, no december
i help my city get back on the map, that’s no (?)
i’m still praying everyday i don’t die or go to prison

- rj lamont

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