Pasta ft. Tra XIII Lyrics

My homie in the kitchen twisting forks like it's Japanese pasta

Yellow nigga thuggin off the block hair twisted like a Rasta

Real deal stepper op stretcher

Bag catcher hard rapper not imposter

And I heard that I got what be missing

Premonition come and kill the game then revive that shit rap

Necromancer

Roll the dice and take my chances

You can't wait round for the answer

Bought a bag first time I gambled

Wanna taste of heaven listen to this track and get a sample

I done hit the block re upped

And Did it twice an copped an anvil

Lost it all got it back but be a bitch is what I can't do

Only got one canvas but so deep as if I painted two

In jail an old man asked me what you gonna make of you

Thought about it more while I was chillin inside the Booth

Must be fake to hate the truth

Never was the one to impress the shawtys up at the school

Young gangster nigga scared em off they thought my raps was cool

Skippin Sunday dinner at Tara's she cooking pasta

I'm hanging out the window with a choppa tryna catch an op

This the dirty east best watch what you repping on my fucking blocks

People saying that the rap game crowded that there ain't no spots

Watch me clear a way and make one

Don't got food then ima take some

Always stepped up be the brave one

That's just the way I was raised son

Real recognize real the truth gon come soon huh

My homie in the kitchen trimming weed like a hedge bush top shit

And I ain't buyin nothing less I make a fucking profit

Real deal stepper op stretcher bag catcher hard rapper

I am not of the imposter

Real thug nigga don't gotta impress these bitches

Posting picture guns money wearing skinny jeans an Prada

Hear these niggas rapping gangster i don't see a lot of

Shooters

Pull up snatch yo shit straight mobsters

Want me to be modest

Now why would I do that when every time I stepped to the plate

I showed that I'm the hottest

They say trey you put too many words in yo raps

I can't comprehend all that so fast nigga can you stop it

Ice my nigga hop up on a trap beat man

I'm tryna hear you talk brazy about some hot shit

Ruthless topics

We really up the score on a posse

Cut the flow for some niggas

And they ain't got no cash bitch stop it

Yeah young nigga gotta do what he gotta do

I was told don't matter who proud of you

Everything I do for the brotherhood put that on the Whoops