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MaLLy
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Dead Art Painting
What goes up comes down, life is so precious
Ate a cloud for breakfast, we all separate and they desperate
Money, bet cake, nice return on that investment
Making friends is not a item, you can see inside my checkbook
Why take 'em back when I'm going full
All for it than [???]drunks on coffee
And going through the totals, I done stack a hunned fifty and it's fuckin' with me
'Cause I'm making more than is fuckin' pretty
They all are dead to me, alive inside this melody
Effort free, no cost, I'm sucka free, so off
Bitch this is my house, I should take my clothes off
'Cause I feel like a little Dean on chill ice
Two horns, the fuck out my way, let me sit down
Reassess, Everything is positive so I can prolong
Preparation, dedication kept me syndicatin'
Rotation second nature, then I'm raising all the sleepy faces
Ain't at a stand-still, gotta make mad moves
Love having fans, but what's a fan if they rap too?
Talking to God, eyes closed with a spread heart
Challenge with a dead art, we painting with a head start
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Get ready for the rider, for the roller, my God
Bomb hard song-to-song, get it on, going strong
And my legs never tire, give me fifty-five batons
Keep lappin', hit the finish, I'm flickin' the Nikons
Taking pictures of these frauds, the game is super wrong
Bitch, warm is warm, stripes keep it funky they want fightin'
Not worthy of a jersey on the sidelines, tight
Tyronn Lue types, it's all good, on a flight
Just to go mean, and he started speakin'
How I believed him, how the world was gon' be mine
And how I got him through
And how he thought about me down, and he's fucking with the sound
I can't disgrace him in the ground so
Every bar hook, every photo with a star looks for him
Hold my head high so he can see my chin
And I try to play it back, and it hurts, I can't pretend
His best advice was roll solo 'cause these niggas ain't your friends
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