Sam Lachow

80 Bars Part 4


[Verse 1]
R.I.P. to baby Quincy and Old Red
Remember Scottie Pippen assistin' to Jordan's bald head
When all said and it's done and we're all dead
The world keeps spinnin' on a Harlem
Globetrotter's finger
I'm an old soul and an old soul singer
Got a hot flow with an ice cold zinger
It's got a nice ring to it, player
Christina Aguilera, come and sing to a player
[Verse 2]
See me with my bottle drinkin' genie in a bottle
Cheesin' cause I'm schemin'
Like I cheated on the lotto, I'm
Skippin' class, my homies keep rippin' ass
Zippin' past graph riders who jack my last lighter
Told the rider, "ride cool"
Don't blow up like dynamite, dude
When you light the right fuse
Find the right moves and multiply 'em by two
Give you guys some fire to ride to

[Verse 3]
Click-clack blow, sit back down, you diggy-diggy?
Hit that killer and get that crown
You're fucking with the utmost ignorant
Sugar coated with cinnamon
Gentleman to the women, boy you know who it is
Huckleberry juice I like to pour my vodka on (uh)
Car full of killer and villains like Comic-Con
I'm tryna make it rain like I was God and watered lawn
And every time I'm rappin' I'm setting off car alarms
I ain't got an army full of bodybuildin' mountain men (ha)
And I expect you all to fucking scurry when I count to ten

[Verse 4]
I'm glad we got this chance to slow it down again (uh huh)
I want my fans to hear my raps and know they found a friend
And us and them could take on you and any amount of men
Just know that the grass is never purpler
Around the fence (whatever that means)
Where's my gas money?
And where's that rent check? (uh huh)
Who are these amateur partiers?
Where my friends at? (yeah)
Ryan Campbell rockin' boat shoe sandals (of course)
Nacho's probably wackin' off to Scandal again (of course)
Raz Simone's up out of town and probably grindin' and movin'
Gifted Gab is somewhere probably denying she's Jewish
Shoutout Sky Bloaw, he probably brought his bong along
Making me take dabs and bump his electronic songs (alright dude)
See, we've always been underdogs at the parties
Skinny kids in our Buick's against these jocks in Ferrari's
And I don't dress cool
Sorry rappers, I'm straight (I'm sorry)
Same jeans everyday, somehow I'm still getting laid
[Verse 5]
You like TV and girls, I like whiskey and women
And I get plenty of it, sue me, buddy
Send me to prison, okay
Yeah, I like rap, rappy-rap-rap
Tell somebody Sammy's backy-back-back
My girl says I'm an insomniac
What's wrong with that?
I'm at the laundry-mat jottin' raps
On other people's socks and pants
The man with the same clothes as last night
Woke up on the sofa in a halfpipe
Broker than your glass pipe

[Verse 6]
I been wit' you a long time, baby
I'm in Seattle busy making the song cry, baby
You try-you try-you try to run but you can't stop the gun
I'm from a town where the clouds block the sun
Bounce, bounce, come on, bounce
Ladies come on out
We ain't Facebook offic', but supposed to be true
And my homie know Sammy the biggest hoe in the school
And I don't want to be another [?]
But you the one that got with everybody 'fore you knew me
Now you wanna act all asshole, back door creepin' at the last call, tryna get to me, goddamn
You're mad, want a pair of gloves and a chinstrap?
This that, eye roll, I don't really need that shit
Where my weed at, where my fucking weed at? Shit
Like who, what, you ask why?
The glass I had this morning and last night
I don't gotta be something you do to pass time
When I get the money, honey soon I'ma have
My top back and my hair blowin'
Button, unbutton, chest hair is showing
Keep going, I don't look back at the city
Got the seat leaned back, me and Jackie D
I'ma kick you out every show I'm doing
If you're not talking money, shorty don't lie to me
I don't got time for all the jokes y'all doing
I'ma make it rain, hailstorm snow onto you, woah!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha

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