Calabasas (feat. E-40) - Rod Wave

Y'all be hella high powered on them socials Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God Not from Buffalo, but I'm playin' with a few Bills My medallion frostbitten, might give a penguin the chills I'm the author and I'm an inventor of this style that you spongin' up Your bitch on my fender, I told her, 'I'm married, don't wanna fuck' I pray to my God like I'm at a mosque On my knees like I'm arrested by the cops Prices go up and down like a see-saw Cameras up in my studio, I could see y'all Flyer than the Blue Angels, more sticks than the glue man got My rifle was stock 'til I modified that bitch with a bump stock (A bump stock?) An accessory that I bought I could turn a semi to fully, put hellas holes in your hoodie Hella holes in your hoodie, hella holes in your lip These 7-point-6-2s'll eat your whip Hot-headed, I'll blow a fuse, I'll put out a hit Give you and your niggas the blues, I'm with the shit (BIATCH!) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials When we got face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions (Not close) Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God On God, I ain't playin' wit' you niggas My side gettin' money with the winners Yeah, I see what they be doin' but I don't feel 'em Stars in the ceilin', watchin' for the killin' (What?) Murder the scene like I pulled up in an ambulance (Woo) Nigga, whoever laughs, Silent Gary get the gat You need the gas? Oh damn, let me poot California legend, rest in peace Ron Newt (What?) Miss me with that thug talk 'cause I ain't tryna hear You may fool what's in that mirror but that shit ain't in your spirit You may want me on your song, but on my mama, I ain't gon' clear While I'm ready for that drama, on my mama, I don't fear it Ask 40, and the dead homies, and my new Roley It's a bunch of me's everywhere, it's like the game cloned me I ain't gon' never ever forget what the game showed me So now I'm back to get everything the game owe me (What?) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials (Hella high) Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions (Not one) Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God More hammers than a tool box (Tool box) More poles than the Bass Pro Shop (Pro Shop) Don't get scalped with the tomahawk (Tomahawk) Don't get your head put on the choppin' block (Choppin' block) Be careful who you ridin' with 'Cause you ride with might be into some shit (In some shit) These bitches'll have you pussy-whipped Thinkin' wit' ya dick'll get ya hit (Get ya hit) I don't trust nobody, you either my friend or foe (Foe) I don't even trust my own family no more (More) I remember cookin' ki's of candy or blow Now I get six figures at these festival shows When we shootin' dice it's hully gully pee-wee, no catcher (Uh) Bet I 10 or 4 before I 7-11 Bet you I could sic a bad bitch on a reverend Bet you if I ran for mayor I'd win the election (BIATCH!) Y'all be hella high powered on them socials Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean Ooh, me on ho shit, never Ooh, big boogers in a bezel Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh' You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God

It's hard for me to go soft Back me up in a corner and I'ma get off Get you gone if you double cross Niggas jealous 'cause I'm saucy like spaghetti sauce Or should I say lemon caper, diamonds giggin' like a drum major I go this little bitch, I be milkin' the bitch for all her paper Thick like cake mix, all the ballers wanna pay her, save her Charlie Check a Chick is what they call me, not a caped crusader I'm plugged in, I know everything, keep my ear to the gravel I know these streets like my muthafuckin' shadow Under certain circumstances, it's manda-, stay with a stapler You never know who a hater 'cause ain't no congratulators Where I'm from, gotta be a quick decision-maker In the slum, put holes in your car like a cheese grater As of lately, it's crazy, it's been a spark up in crime The murder rate inflate in the heat of the summertime What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (spot) Potna went down, now everybody hot That's what I heard at the barbershop What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot (What you heard?) That's what I heard at the barbershop (The barbershop) I'll get to knockin' like a rock band Heavy metal shit, drumsticks in niggas' hands They say he ran off with half a man And they don't want him dead, just to understand You keep playing with this Bay shit Where niggas see the plan, don't say shit Go the wrong day to get your taper fixed Could put you in the mix over paper quick Yeah, in the chair, you gon' hear the drama Side bitch and her mama jumped the baby mama She was being messy all in the comments Talking 'bout, "Excuse me, he left his condoms" Man, these bitches ain't playing fair That told the welfare she be doing hair Be havin' hella niggas in and outta there And they be smokin' with the kids, they ain't even player What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot That's what I heard at the barbershop What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot (What you heard?) That's what I heard at the barbershop (Ugh!) Goons, goons Pistols be poppin' just like balloons, balloons Niggas be dropped in emergency rooms, rooms The smirkish be plottin' on the tycoons, tycoons They'll kick in your door in the afternoon, the noon Be strapped with mini-Macs See me, mama snaps, already know where them pennies at Real life hittas don't come in a beanie cap They do it bare-faced off powder and Henny yak Niggas gon' give him that, run him and shit You either take the L or get shot in your lip Suckas lay low but a boss'll flip Put a hundred on the Lamb', 50 more on the wrist The niggas is pissed; if they move, it's fonk Them boys got them problems niggas really don't want Flexin' in the thang, park it right out front Be the talk in barbershop for the next three months (BIATCH!) What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot That's what I heard at the barbershop What's-his-name told, ol' boy got popped (popped) They stripped some nigga last night at the spot (shot) Potna went down, now everybody hot (What you heard?) That's what I heard at the barbershop (The barbershop)

Dnyc3 Michelin Star restaurants, Cohiba cigar blunts Front row seats at the UFC fights, first class flights Homeowners Association fees and property taxes Earthquake insurance just in case something collapses Wholesale license and DBA's Selling alcohol by the truckload, selling liquor by the case Record labels and streams, billion plays One day I'ma own a baseball team, the Giants or Oakland A's Growing up in the struggle, you gotta be wired right Can't be snitchin' and tellin' on fellas like a vice Gotta be made for hustlin', know your weaknesses and strengths Gotta go with your heart and your gut, trust your instincts When I was growing up they taught me all the rules Never put your right foot in your left shoe I was a quiet dude, I never gave a clue Gotta watch this dude 'cause I'll do somethin' to you, BIATCH! I pull up with the music poundin' Both pockets full, lookin' astoundin' (Astoundin') Check all my mirrors, they be clownin' Gotta watch your surroundings (Your surroundings) I pull up with the music poundin' Both pockets full, lookin' astoundin' (Astoundin') Check all my mirrors, they be clownin' (Clowinin') Gotta watch your surroundings Kudos to my inmates in them fire camps Programmin' and doin' their time like some champs Reading books and eating healthy with no pork Cardio, push-ups and bar work My uncle used to always tell me, 'Nephew, go for it Don't be tryna buy it if you know you can't afford it If the good Lord bless you when you come across a check Say 'Thank you, Jesus,' show some respect' Keep quiet as it can be, careful, don't flamboast They'll run through your pockets, take off your clothes They'll mix you, they'll kick when you out cold No matter the age, young or old Livin' out here in the sludge where they hold a grudge and they bust 7-point-6-2's and double eye bucks I'm from Vallejo, California, the Yay Startup company, Seed A, BIATCH! I pull up with the music poundin' Both pockets full, lookin' astoundin' (Astoundin') Check all my mirrors, they be clownin' Gotta watch your surroundings (Your surroundings) I pull up with the music poundin' Both pockets full, lookin' astoundin' (Astoundin') Check all my mirrors, they be clownin' (Clownin') Gotta watch your surroundings So many catastrophes, so much stress Where elementary teachers get paid less Watch your surroundings, stay ready and pack a gat When you're washing your clothes at the laundromat The closest ones to you will set you up Give you up for a couple of bucks Break bread with the enemies, split the worth Then go to Neiman's and purchase a man purse Life is too short, so one don't plan to live long Sorrow and hurt, the mamas cry on the phone Face on a shirt, they can't afford a tombstone Ain't nobody home when you ask for a loan Gotta watch 'em 'cause they quick Go in the gas station and get bipped Break your car window, take your belongings Your backpack, your laptop, and all your earnings, BIATCH! I pull up with the music poundin' Both pockets full, lookin' astoundin' (Astoundin') Check all my mirrors, they be clownin' Gotta watch your surroundings (Your surroundings) I pull up with the music poundin' Both pockets full, lookin' astoundin' (Astoundin') Check all my mirrors, they be clownin' (Clownin') Gotta watch your surroundings Gotta watch your surroundings (Your surroundings) Gotta watch your surroundings (Your surroundings) Gotta watch your surroundings (Your surroundings) Gotta watch your surroundings (Your surroundings)

My face above the water My feet can't touch the ground, Touch the ground, and it feels like I can see the sands on the horizon Everytime you are not around I'm slowly drifting away (drifting away) Wave after wave, wave after wave I'm slowly drifting (drifting away) And it feels like I'm drowning Pulling against the stream Pulling against the stream I wish I could make it easy Easy to love me, love me But still I reach To find a way I'm stuck here in between I'm looking for the right words to say I'm slowly drifting away (drifting away) Wave after wave, wave after wave I'm slowly drifting (drifting away) And it feels like I'm drowning Pulling against the stream Pulling against the stream

Spiel' Arba Meyeh mit Zakariye Sitz' in S-Klassen, hinten, pumpen Elqajiye 2 Meter Zaza tattoowiert 2 Flaschen, Bruder, eskaliert Kopfficks, Topshelfs - in meiner Lunge Ott ist Bombe schreibt mir jetzt mein Kunde WhatsApp, Kotti - treff' mich in einer Stunde 911, Bruder, heilt meine Wunde Echte Brüder, ficke Freunde Beste Matte, Kiste Eule, Bruder komm wir sitzen Rolls Royce Taui für die Sneaker, 2 für die Jacke Bullen wollen mich auf den Boden packen - aber bitte nicht heute Im 9-1-1 Tick mein Leben lang Kripos wollen mich fangen 36 von Anfang an Im 9-1-1 Bango kafa derdo und nicht Raffaello Hayat bayat so wie Aşık Veyso 10 Jahre Rap, zu viele Fotzen schon gesehen X bleibt echt, denn wir pushen bis wir gehen Scheine heilen Wunden aber Kopf ist down Im ganzen Raum Cali-Rauch, keiner holt mich raus AMG - krasser Sound, hört der Nachbar auch Polis Amca klingelt aber guck ich schlafe aus Canim ruft mich an aber es ist noch zu früh Anruf unbekannt immer Action vor der Tür Uber fahren am Kotti, wenn die Scheiße kocht Wenn die Kripo klopft, hoff' dass ich ein Album drop' Im 9-1-1 Tick mein Leben lang Kripos wollen mich fangen 36 von Anfang an Im 9-1-1 Relax Flow, Steak auf'n Tisch - kein Appetit In meiner Gegend macht mich mehr Geld attraktiv Keine Garantie, ich trag das Risiko Steche zu so wie Flüchtlinge vor Tipico Mein kleiner Cousin macht mir nach, fängt mit Packets packen an Vor'm schlafen ein Beddua, der kleine wird ein Geschäftsmann Wir halten die Gruppe stramm, drücken 20k im Monat Der Bunker von mir ist der Bunker von mein Bruder Vertrau mir Bruder - doch vertraue nicht Denn wenn ein Bruder mich beklaut muss ich schießen für dein Gesicht Designer reinigt Seele, Mietwagen Mercedes Kann nicht aufhören - auch wenn ich den Tod vor mir sehe