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Maxgod - GOD Level (feat. JAP) Lyrics



Maxgod - GOD Level (feat. JAP) Lyrics
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I really think that I am from the heavens
Max been kicking just like David Beckham
Dropped a hit last week
Easy thirty seven
I seem to make one every session
I got bars on tap and I ain't talking lager
I got cameras on me but I am not a blogger
Give me a follow
Witness the saga
Motorcade rolling wit armadas
These bitches say they love you but they ain't bout' shit
Haters they be talking but be on my d***
Steady stacking paper yeah real rich s***
F****** up the shoots yeah my s*** lit
I don't give a d*** what a hater say
I got hella commas in my data base
Skirting in the lot in the Bentley coupe
Meeting with your b**** and I'm tryna shoot
I don't need a rubber yeah I beat it raw
Hands behind her back like she broke the law
Got her so in love she dipped in the sauce
Catching all these plays call me Randy Moss
Drink so much d*** I can't see
Smoking Eric garner damn I can't breathe
So much bread these birds are after me
Just imagine if they catch me here catastrophe
See y'all trailing after sleep on me a tragedy
Break it down anatomy
Y'all acting frantically
Crossed satanically
Romantically only roll on organic leaf
Rolly wetter than the coral reef
Choppa in the sheef
Bars soiled like the towels be
Ain't paid hourly
Exponential salary
Burn ya like a calorie
Stupidity my allergy
My closet like a gallery
Flooring on the lamb do it for the fam
Do it for the pleasure not for the gram
I just took a shot like Abraham
Always f****** going ham
She wanna smash I say yes ma'am
Ride to high I need it slammed
Shoot me straight I never jam
Finna blow like Pakistan
I could flex on super man
All this income diagram
Feel bass in ya diaphragm
These b****** say they love you but they ain't bout' s***
Haters they be talking but be on my d***
Steady stacking paper yeah real rich s***
F****** up the shoots yeah my s*** lit
I don't give a d*** what a hater say
I got hella commas in my data base
Skirting in the lot in the Bentley coupe
Meeting with your b**** and I'm tryna shoot
I don't need a rubber yeah I beat it raw
Hands behind her back like she broke the law
Got her so in love she dipped in the sauce
Catching all these plays call me Randy Moss
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




I really think that I am from the heavens
Max been kicking just like David Beckham
Dropped a hit last week
Easy thirty seven
I seem to make one every session
I got bars on tap and I ain't talking lager
I got cameras on me but I am not a blogger
Give me a follow
Witness the saga
Motorcade rolling wit armadas
These bitches say they love you but they ain't bout' shit
Haters they be talking but be on my d***
Steady stacking paper yeah real rich s***
F****** up the shoots yeah my s*** lit
I don't give a d*** what a hater say
I got hella commas in my data base
Skirting in the lot in the Bentley coupe
Meeting with your b**** and I'm tryna shoot
I don't need a rubber yeah I beat it raw
Hands behind her back like she broke the law
Got her so in love she dipped in the sauce
Catching all these plays call me Randy Moss
Drink so much d*** I can't see
Smoking Eric garner damn I can't breathe
So much bread these birds are after me
Just imagine if they catch me here catastrophe
See y'all trailing after sleep on me a tragedy
Break it down anatomy
Y'all acting frantically
Crossed satanically
Romantically only roll on organic leaf
Rolly wetter than the coral reef
Choppa in the sheef
Bars soiled like the towels be
Ain't paid hourly
Exponential salary
Burn ya like a calorie
Stupidity my allergy
My closet like a gallery
Flooring on the lamb do it for the fam
Do it for the pleasure not for the gram
I just took a shot like Abraham
Always f****** going ham
She wanna smash I say yes ma'am
Ride to high I need it slammed
Shoot me straight I never jam
Finna blow like Pakistan
I could flex on super man
All this income diagram
Feel bass in ya diaphragm
These b****** say they love you but they ain't bout' s***
Haters they be talking but be on my d***
Steady stacking paper yeah real rich s***
F****** up the shoots yeah my s*** lit
I don't give a d*** what a hater say
I got hella commas in my data base
Skirting in the lot in the Bentley coupe
Meeting with your b**** and I'm tryna shoot
I don't need a rubber yeah I beat it raw
Hands behind her back like she broke the law
Got her so in love she dipped in the sauce
Catching all these plays call me Randy Moss
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Angel Avila, Joseph Pruitt, Max Glaser
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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