FTP ft. $cottie Pimpin' Lyrics

Look, uh, the war started, I'm all for it, the all scorin

I'm goin' forward, my points scorin', no lean pourin

Your bitch jumpin', my V's Foreign', now he scorchin

The heat stormin', the sea shores in when he's tourin

All across the globe, your favorite rappers' favorite rappers should already know

And if you didn't, just give me time to kick it for another minute

Or learn to listen

That's if you know what I mean

The cars, cream, and the whips make me free

And I ain't have no ID, that's why it's fuck the police

That's if you know what I mean

The cars, cream, and the whips make me free

Shit, I ain't got no ID, that's why it's fuck the police

Yeah

We tryna get away, we tryna find a way

Vamonos andale, I'm tryna dodge a case

But niggas want my face, in every single place

I had to slave away, to get a single play

I had to lift away, until I lit the way

You tryna ride the wave, I actually built the wave

You tryna pay, I'm paid, a bunch of different ways

Money circulating through a bunch of different states

I'm in a real estate, I'm really here to stay

I'm tryna feed the soul, you may just be the prey

I got a creature flow, I might just need a crane

I might just break a bone, I might just feed the safe

I might just load the chrome, until your spirit fades

And all my niggas gone, won't ever feel this pain

They say they service you, I came to serve this fool

This is what I'm meant to do, I'm here to service you

That's if you know what I mean

The cars, cream, and the whips make me free

And I ain't have no ID, that's why it's fuck the police

That's if you know what I mean

The cars, cream, and the whips make me free

Shit, I ain't got no ID, that's why it's fuck the police

Me and my son Braend, kickin' it like Bruce

My style a little obtuse, I'm rockin' a cool goose

I spit nothin' but truth, man it's fuck the police

They killin' us in the streets, but askin' us for some peace

No justice, too legit to quit, hammer time, they can't touch this

Scottie pimpin' in the fourth quarter, all buckets

Smokin' out in public, and your bitch love it

When I bust a rhyme, bet I got her beggin' me to touch it

Yeah, I'm the conglomerate, Scotty got all kinds of shit

That's why the P for prominent, thought that it was obvious

Ni..N, Oh Chill, Oh Hold On