Ham Bome & Jijo Prods - Seasons, Pt. 3 (feat. DaeShoots) Lyrics

Bitches thinkin' they got access, you gotta get to the back of the line
Ugh
I had to - turn up a little that's word to my sigil
I'll give you a vigil and then I'll forget you
The scaring is faded but still in the tissue
And once I dismiss you I'll never remiss you
Whatever you doin' no longer my issue I'm scrapin' the scene
I got a clip you don't call up my phone
You drunk and alone wastin' my time
Pockets on heavy Lasagna
My flag is redder than pasta
I put the beam on the llama
Playin' with toys but never been Tonka
Whippin' that shit like a cop car
Finish it whenever I start
Run a full back like I'm Alstott
Ballin' so hard like an all-star
She wanna f*ck when she call me
She got a man but it's all graves
Hit from the back she need Allstate
Give me that cash that's always
She f*ckin' with me the long way
Breakin' her down in the hallway
Shorty been chasin' me all day
She wanna ride with me all night
Tell me though why did it have to get tragic
We had to hit him up 'Cause he was lackin'
Semi or that automatic
Call him Anne Frank hid him up in the attic
We always know the gymnastics makin' them flip
Never needin' a mattress
I'm never comin' to last I run it up I'm a march in the madness
Burn like a candle I'm lit off the wax
Don't need to match I don't care if you pack good
'Cause I don't be smokin' no backwoods
Smokin' on Raw's no Zags
Show me you holdin' a ticket in tax
Give me a reason to never go back
Stick to the breed Assassin
Makin' these play like a Madden God
You got money you you you you you you you you
Broke-ass kids get away from my truck
Why do niggas be think they ain't cappin'
I heard niggas be snitchin' and rattin'
I heard niggas be talkin' like they really active
Stop the cap you an act
Stop the cap you inactive
That's the shit that I hate with a passion
Ran it up with no taxes
Made it all off the back end
People gon' change with the seasons
I couldn't give you a reason
I don't need shit to believe in
Cut off your hand for the treason
Niggas can pardon my back now
I'm used to playin' the background
I walk through the door with a head high
Give a f*ck about a pat down
I was gone but I'm back now
Eat a dick how that sound
Ain't shit really change though
Niggas still chasin' the same hoes
Me, I'm just chasin' a bankroll
You know that's just how the game go
And the shit that I'm carryin' with me
I put a hole in your chimney
My shit is real my shit is raw my shit is authentic
Bet it hit and feel hard like when Ars said it
Never fake but I'm armed like a prosthetic
Run the money up I feel my palm itchin'
Smack you out 'Cause I know that I'm palm heavy
Feel like Neptune when I be water whippin'
I'll sell that fish out the box Chevy
I know you niggas is not ready
I know you niggas do not listen
I know you niggas get no money
I know you niggas is not pimping
We really put the blaze on they ass
Hyperactive in the game
Got a bad bitch and she Blasian
Foreign, never ask her what her name is
You're not the bad guys
We are
I had to - turn up a little that's word to my sigil
I'll give you a vigil and then I'll forget you
The scaring is faded but still in the tissue
And once I dismiss you I'll never remiss you
Whatever you doin' no longer my issue I'm scrapin' the scene
I got a clip you don't call up my phone
You drunk and alone wastin' my time
Tell me though why did it have to get tragic
We had to hit him up 'Cause he was lackin'
Semi or that automatic
Call him Anne Frank hid him up in the attic
We always know the gymnastics makin' them flip
Never needin' a mattress
I'm never comin' to last I run it up I'm a march in the madness
Burn like a candle I'm lit off the wax
Don't need to match I don't care if you pack good
'Cause I don't be smokin' no backwoods
Smokin' on Raw's no Zags
Show me you holdin' a ticket in tax
Give me a reason to never go back
Stick to the breed Assassin
Makin' these play like a Madden God