Super 8 Party ft. Lokye, Larrair & Whiteloaf Lyrics

Outside with the fye, fine shii hit my line

TM turnin opps to a fresh pack of Za

Had to pull up to they house, cause they talkin' out they mouth

Waitin till they walkin' out, what's that shit you talkin' bout

Camping out with my dawg, so we finna start a fire

You might catch me in your city, yeah we comin' to you live

Slappin' out the Super eight, round this bitch slappin' five

I ain't really have a job, I got paid doin' crime

You can take a step up in my shoes, yeah, you couldn't fit my size

I put the 30 on that bitch and I can sneak in with the nine

My members too solid, bein' broke and snitchin' not allowed

They would act like they ain't hear me, got no choice to hear me now

Yeah, Bathing Ape on my back, I'm bout to transform

Hit my line for them yams, I'll bring them to you by the morning

Early bird gets the worm, I'm countin plays while you was snorin

Night shift, I poured a pop and woke up inside a foreign

Chasing chicken, I see you still out here runnin' to some problems

Don't start shit with bro, I done seen him turn to a goblin

Want beef will bring this shit to you hot like Benihana

A lot of people fold quick, go from tough to prima donna

I'm probably somewhere with your boo, if she missin' and you can't find her

I ain't like the weather, I hopped on the plane and switched the climate

They tryna say this shit was luck, but see I popped up perfect timing

Cut down on the drink, too many cups had me violent

Big ass blunt got it lookin' like a giant

Tie-dye tee up on the block, I'm lookin' vibrant

Punch a nigga in the fuckin' mouth, he started cryin

Said he was an artist, he was really just a client

I'm a painter, I might slit your throat with a pallet knife

Send your ass to the afterlife, it might be over a game of dice

I'ma play with that pussy, girl she shake it right

Crib look like museums yea you know that this that wavy life

Fuckin' up a check around the country, I ain't never frontin

Couple P's stashed up in a North Face luggage

A little liquor splashed up in this Plum Nantucket

If you tryna get that job done nigga, what the fuck yo budget

I been gettin' money out here, handin' out concussions

Hit him with that bat, he gon' fuckin' need some crutches

If you talk down bout the gang, well that ain't a good discussion

Oh they talkin' down, what the fuck they really talkin' bout

Get up on the beat and say some shit they never thought about

Everybody spazzin, it don't matter what the song about

He just want the clout, brody geekin' bouta walk him down

Why they lookin' at us funny Loaf, pass me the blicky

If they doin' bad business, I might poke him in the kidney

In a new TM hoodie runnin' packs across the city

Big 222, you ain't know about my religion

I could break it down for em, but it's hard for me to split it

And it's harder just to find it, do you know where I can get it

Put some new batteries inside my scale, it was trippin

Tryna customize everything I touch, got me drippin

Keep my head on a swivel, you will never catch me slippin

Lil' trout took the bait, they ain't know that I was fishin

Pan for gold out the river, I'ma take it to the dentist

She said that I could fuck her friend, I got permission