Gemini Songtext
von Oliver Francis
Gemini Songtext
Bitches, rappers, rappers, bitches
Way y′all talkin' on Twitter
Lil′ boy, I can't tell the difference
Purple herb in my Swisher
Yeah, lil' Aahj is my witness
Pull up, engine so vicious
That seven digits the mission, listen
60 FPS, these other rappers movin′ slo-mo
I was broke as shit and now I′m drippin' in some Polo
I don′t pay for promo
I stay on the low-low
I'm the kid who run the game, call it Miyamoto
Bitch, I′m Heaven-sent, this is just my genesis
Marble floor my residence, pocket full of presidents
My money so thick that I cannot fold the shit
Talkin' all that shit on Twitter, lil′ bitch, kindly hold my dick
Yeah, I'm gettin' to the bag, watch me double park the whip
My lil′ shawty break it down roll it up and spark the shit
You gon′ respect me as a lyricist
I ain't just a haircut
I ain′t just a face tat
I'm sendin′ shots at everyone
Keep all that designer, I rock Polo and Tommy
Rollin' up my marijuana while she give me the sloppy
And all you trash ass SoundCloud rappers, I surpassed you
Pull up in the Aston, I′m blowin' past you
You might see me do the dash, blowin' gas out the sunroof
Lil′ bitch, I′m so great, I can't relate to not a one of you
Can′t nobody keep me down or hold me from nothin'
If I want it, I′ma get it, man, it ain't no discussion
As of lately, I been tryna write a rap with some substance
I was sick and tired of tryna be somebody I wasn′t
And I ain't in this for a check, I do this shit 'cause I love it
You know I won′t stop at nothin′
I take that feeling and trust it, yeah
How you rock designer, but you look like a clown?
How I pull up to your city and I shut the shit down?
I'm gettin′ paper, I just copped a Mercedes, I'll catch you later
Step up out the scraper, ballin′ like a Laker in some purple Bapestas
Ooh, I think I'm feelin′ myself
Shawty dice that pineapple that replenish my health
Bitch it's lit, find me with my clique
Smokin' out a zip
Guy Fieri with the sauce, Paul Walker with the whip, bitch
I hate flexin′ but I can′t help it
Droptop burnt out on the pavement
Dope rolled, in some Polo
Let the champagne flow, throwin' C-notes, yeah
Backwoods rolled, vacay for the weekend
Couple girls gettin′ high in the deep end
You want to, you should come through
Got the champagne flutes and the orange juice, yeah-yeah
Way y′all talkin' on Twitter
Lil′ boy, I can't tell the difference
Purple herb in my Swisher
Yeah, lil' Aahj is my witness
Pull up, engine so vicious
That seven digits the mission, listen
60 FPS, these other rappers movin′ slo-mo
I was broke as shit and now I′m drippin' in some Polo
I don′t pay for promo
I stay on the low-low
I'm the kid who run the game, call it Miyamoto
Bitch, I′m Heaven-sent, this is just my genesis
Marble floor my residence, pocket full of presidents
My money so thick that I cannot fold the shit
Talkin' all that shit on Twitter, lil′ bitch, kindly hold my dick
Yeah, I'm gettin' to the bag, watch me double park the whip
My lil′ shawty break it down roll it up and spark the shit
You gon′ respect me as a lyricist
I ain't just a haircut
I ain′t just a face tat
I'm sendin′ shots at everyone
Keep all that designer, I rock Polo and Tommy
Rollin' up my marijuana while she give me the sloppy
And all you trash ass SoundCloud rappers, I surpassed you
Pull up in the Aston, I′m blowin' past you
You might see me do the dash, blowin' gas out the sunroof
Lil′ bitch, I′m so great, I can't relate to not a one of you
Can′t nobody keep me down or hold me from nothin'
If I want it, I′ma get it, man, it ain't no discussion
As of lately, I been tryna write a rap with some substance
I was sick and tired of tryna be somebody I wasn′t
And I ain't in this for a check, I do this shit 'cause I love it
You know I won′t stop at nothin′
I take that feeling and trust it, yeah
How you rock designer, but you look like a clown?
How I pull up to your city and I shut the shit down?
I'm gettin′ paper, I just copped a Mercedes, I'll catch you later
Step up out the scraper, ballin′ like a Laker in some purple Bapestas
Ooh, I think I'm feelin′ myself
Shawty dice that pineapple that replenish my health
Bitch it's lit, find me with my clique
Smokin' out a zip
Guy Fieri with the sauce, Paul Walker with the whip, bitch
I hate flexin′ but I can′t help it
Droptop burnt out on the pavement
Dope rolled, in some Polo
Let the champagne flow, throwin' C-notes, yeah
Backwoods rolled, vacay for the weekend
Couple girls gettin′ high in the deep end
You want to, you should come through
Got the champagne flutes and the orange juice, yeah-yeah
Writer(s): Oliver Jack Smith Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
