Crocodile Tears Songtext
von billy woods
Crocodile Tears Songtext
32 bars on how to rob and kill your neighbors
Still got the nerve to ask God to save you
The exhale got a whole different flavor
Official policy? Don′t do me no favors
Oakland Raiders, empire in decline, but still got plenty paper
Penny wise, pound foolish
Bring the mountain to Mohammed
Move pounds stupid
A-capellas? The beats chopped it and looped it
Doing some minor keys, bars, and hooks
Only option, cop the plea, it's off the books
This year, sync the rapping up, the rapping′s off, I can hear
You rapping soft, no heart, defibrillate these niggas (clear!)
Problem with the army is they wanna be the boss
Problem with secret police is it's like a dirty gun you can't toss
President Banana, lips burnt on roaches o′ bammer
Bad idea, like borrowing money in the slammer
Let′s get candid on camera
When you hit the big screen, don't let white space jam ya
Seeing green under rays, gamma
Stunting shades, Ray Banner
You will like me when I′m angry
I got plenty of home trainin' and manners
Bring me champagne when I′m thirsty
Bring me reefer when I want to get high
Lord have mercy, hope that ya heard me
Y'all can′t hurt me, I've been feeling like this a long time
Bring me champagne when I'm thirsty
Bring me reefer when I want to get high
Lord have mercy, hope that ya heard me
Y′all can′t hurt me, I've been feeling like this a long time
See folk, you used to son, lookin′ at you like you broke
And cats used to look up to him smoking coke
That's that rope-a-dope, negroes tryna float they boat
At high school your mad shot was wet
At junior college, though, they trapped the press
Crowd you off that jumper, couldn′t even hit the net
And they happy to see you back around the way
Eager to front yay
Rob, take a Dutch off the blocks
Slip it back in that roll like old slippers
Game on tilt, working them flippers
Start slowing down, the past will get witcha
Five on five, nobody picked ya
Ain't no ′next', you out the picture
Brown baggin' liquor
You and her bicker life crawling by the bottom of the screen like a news ticker
At least you tried, right, nigga?
Put that syrup in the mixture
Feeling like the vic, every sip helps the shoe fit ya
Everything that glitters, all gold, ice cold, thrice-fold
Catch the Holy Ghost and the Spirit waiting for Christ to call
But it′s all business, even God waiting for the price to fall
That′s how they do, y'all
That′s life, might as well heist the ball
Bring me champagne when I'm thirsty
Bring me reefer when I want to get high
Lord have mercy, hope that ya heard me
Y′all can't hurt me, I′ve been feeling like this a long time
Bring me champagne when I'm thirsty
Bring me reefer when I want to get high
Lord have mercy, hope that ya heard me
Y'all can′t hurt me, I′ve been feeling like this a long time
Still got the nerve to ask God to save you
The exhale got a whole different flavor
Official policy? Don′t do me no favors
Oakland Raiders, empire in decline, but still got plenty paper
Penny wise, pound foolish
Bring the mountain to Mohammed
Move pounds stupid
A-capellas? The beats chopped it and looped it
Doing some minor keys, bars, and hooks
Only option, cop the plea, it's off the books
This year, sync the rapping up, the rapping′s off, I can hear
You rapping soft, no heart, defibrillate these niggas (clear!)
Problem with the army is they wanna be the boss
Problem with secret police is it's like a dirty gun you can't toss
President Banana, lips burnt on roaches o′ bammer
Bad idea, like borrowing money in the slammer
Let′s get candid on camera
When you hit the big screen, don't let white space jam ya
Seeing green under rays, gamma
Stunting shades, Ray Banner
You will like me when I′m angry
I got plenty of home trainin' and manners
Bring me champagne when I′m thirsty
Bring me reefer when I want to get high
Lord have mercy, hope that ya heard me
Y'all can′t hurt me, I've been feeling like this a long time
Bring me champagne when I'm thirsty
Bring me reefer when I want to get high
Lord have mercy, hope that ya heard me
Y′all can′t hurt me, I've been feeling like this a long time
See folk, you used to son, lookin′ at you like you broke
And cats used to look up to him smoking coke
That's that rope-a-dope, negroes tryna float they boat
At high school your mad shot was wet
At junior college, though, they trapped the press
Crowd you off that jumper, couldn′t even hit the net
And they happy to see you back around the way
Eager to front yay
Rob, take a Dutch off the blocks
Slip it back in that roll like old slippers
Game on tilt, working them flippers
Start slowing down, the past will get witcha
Five on five, nobody picked ya
Ain't no ′next', you out the picture
Brown baggin' liquor
You and her bicker life crawling by the bottom of the screen like a news ticker
At least you tried, right, nigga?
Put that syrup in the mixture
Feeling like the vic, every sip helps the shoe fit ya
Everything that glitters, all gold, ice cold, thrice-fold
Catch the Holy Ghost and the Spirit waiting for Christ to call
But it′s all business, even God waiting for the price to fall
That′s how they do, y'all
That′s life, might as well heist the ball
Bring me champagne when I'm thirsty
Bring me reefer when I want to get high
Lord have mercy, hope that ya heard me
Y′all can't hurt me, I′ve been feeling like this a long time
Bring me champagne when I'm thirsty
Bring me reefer when I want to get high
Lord have mercy, hope that ya heard me
Y'all can′t hurt me, I′ve been feeling like this a long time
Writer(s): Caroline Ailin Buvik Furoeyen, Grades Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
