HOSPITAL TABLES Lyrics

Tell them about the gun line, boss

That's four planes

They murked three other niggas

That's four planes

Blake Solomon's third

They was all buried on the fourth day

You're so sweeter than sorbet

And I don't care what neither of y'all whores say

I got swagger that'll make your whore obey

I'm giving them them hors d'oeuvres to bring in more hors d'oeuvres

I want niggas street smart

Putting brains on more curves

Them book smart niggas being circling

Four curves

Two hundred degrees

Burning them like triangles

But thinking that you fly, you can really be by some angels

Don't get vanilla ice

Don't get vanilla ice

Don't get vanilla ice

Don't get vanilla ice

Don't get vanilla ice

Don't get vanilla ice

But you don't even really know what to do with all this blood

You don't even know what to do with all this blood

And we're in a circle

We being circled like four curves

Two hundred degrees

Burning them like triangles

But thinking that you fly, you can really be by some angels

Don't get vanilla ice

Tonight, forty flights as you dangle by your ankles

Be too many colors that you look like a rainbow

So thirsty I gave my cup full of greasy urine, and he was thankful

Slithered on a hateful and a disgraceful

Spit until it rains more than April

For the victims and the villains, that's why they came in and think they able

So it's no time to warn em', cause we coming up with the cables

that I'ma clamp the hurt in

Clutch ya Aunt Mabel

And fold it up like a checkerboard left on a card table

Gone with the wind, but it ain't no Clark Gable

Think it's Clark Victor

You can think it's a large table

Suck ass niggas sucking ass to beat the logo

Put y'all labeled

I'ma run y'all over with a stash

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And I'ma love y'all

And have you in the hospital table looking non-stable

They said that money talks so I rarely say shit

Letters from the bank looking at my statements

If you really knew the type of cash we was making

You would think the L.O. Dollar was exaggerating

Y'all can never fuck with our bucks

Y'all money masturbating ends up encastrating

You should be at a gas station putting in an application

We got the shit that bush used a clap for nation

For the fact they hate me I'ma welcome you to the feudal zone

And when I Google comb it's gonna have your pupils blown till your noodles gone

Ratatouille cuz that'll do him

Old news like old dude what happened to him

Blasting jackets, passing through him like pills

Dead, when you think they ain't coming

If deals for meals we ate something

Off HPs, that's eight onions

And it ain't nothing when they dumping

Deleting you cuz there's no escape or save button

In the beat the choppers just wanna say something

Put them all in your back but you stay frontin'

Lociano the type that'll teach a fighter

Beat you with this mic, choke you with speaker wires

I got homies with Pepsi, they cookin' coke up

Gets drowned and broke up, wait in the classic coke cup

Straight drop you for the dope cut

And let's keep it real, it's been straight and darkness since Lo spoke up

Here to blow your mind, I know your shit's blowed up

For all those that slept on me, I know they just woke up

Chocha and Doja, no sir

Exposure to my closure

We unloading and reloading on any freeloaders

Shoot you in the laundry basket with these dirty gas we toting

So don't be chosen, but we're disposing

Because we released souls and your body will be decomposing

Long after the deacons spoken to your peeps

And they leaving after leaving roses

Everything that I breathe is coldest

Polar piss, my flow is ferocious

Stay focused like, mmm, don't exist

Got a need to speed climb in a Lotus

Haters occasionally bugging me like fly locusts

Having a hell with slam chops or gold pits

I take the extra 20 for the 4-5ths

I'm on battle movement, how I let our flow set

You would think we was Mario or Luigi

How we get them points in from busting up those bricks

To get more gold parts, some gold kicks

Fire your flowers, shells, and then some Goombas

Spit flames so well, spit tails of the king

Koopa, Bowser, you should bouncer

Before I get you double quarter pounded by the announcer

All of the bouncers for at least a half an hour

How you sad and sour

Wishing that you had a counselor for mad amounts of hours

Said all men are created equal, but they pouting about my powers

I smoke sour, that's diesel

No joke, I get the munchies and devour people

And the way that I smell is like loud is legal