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Look for me | Lost in a whirlwind, 2012 quality | High up until the world ends, doing 85 in my ride
Look for me Lost in a whirlwind, 2012 quality High up until the world ends, doing 85 in my ride And these niggas hiding, know I'm striding like a giant I ain't lying when I'm rhyming, rule these niggas like a tyrant Damn, Doms, it don't even seem like you trying Know these niggas crucify 'em, couldn't crack him, I'm a diamond I know that niggas is finding my progression so uncommon The pressure I'm still applying 'til I hear the angels crying Sad day in Hell for those who doubted, hope your head explode Cry about it, but don't deny that Doms got the realest flows My eyes is feeling low, pulling on the killer 'dro Chilling with a vixen, thinking, "This is what I did it for" Still banging, Wolf Ganging as if you niggas didn't know Still trifling, Loiter Litter Life, and triple sixing, hoe Doms, Doms, Doms While they ripping through the packaging to grab the shit I'm shaded with the few whom I usually blow cabbage with New patterns patty-caking with mannequins 'Cause I don't like my fucking homies dip, bruh, they all Jaw-slacking, all 'em awe struck And I ain't got shit but a pretty bitch and cigar tucks Riding in the city and knocking out in the Starbucks I swear these niggas is fucking phony, smoking spliffs and that's Prior to arriving to the studio Eyes glued to a gluteus maximus, attractive lady Where you headed with that shit? And can a real nigga get a look at it? Crook, panic-shook ain't ya? Blunt fatter than some butch ankles Cheffing, fit the cook apron, ante up for good payment Run until my foot achy, running 'til my foot aching Full-grown terror type, Ferragamo do-rag With my nigga Travy out in Maui, running two-mans Smoking 'til I'm loopy as a motherfucking toucan 20 minutes, burn a fucking quarter back to two grams But I'ma dip, I know you must have had it with my rude ass
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