FREESTYLE FELLOWSHIP Lyrics

For

A thick minute

Got it outta my chest

The fit Simmons

Its raffy to be correct

I'm blasting you off the neck

In seconds and less then 8 bars

I ate Stars

I'm tweaking but got no face scars

Race cars ima need a pack in a great jar

I'll choke you like you my son

As if I date marge

Say sarge

Yo ima need her to catch

A couple starter jackets and adidas to match

That be the shit tho

We chasing paper wit the fits broke

I hit the swish like a laker in 96 yo

Jousting with the sticks lord

Collision looking wide

I gave her dick for nutrition then she solicit I

Pound it on the clit

Then stick it inside the rim

Enter like SD cards I mean the SIM

For tha iPhone

Mike jones I got the nice tones

We kicking back wit my lady while AB light cones

Take another flight homes

I need the higher class

My lady got me wit bottles and mason mar the tags

Quality my kinda grass

That feel mellow shit

For the hell of it

I feel like

Freestyle fellowship

You want it?

Nah I don't think that you want

All these typa problems that I bleed

Wit a font

Fifa and Don

My recipe

Far from the rest can see

How the hell we moving

Bitch we do it like telepathy

I'm rapping while my breath release

In the freshest fleece

So recognize my painting

While I bless the keef

Sex in Greece

Double o they call him

The expertise

Flex the Grease

Homies got me looking involved