Correction Lyrics Loopholes by Gdp

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Lyrics

I don't count out bars, I rock till I feel like it
Hold up the mic like a lighter
Same guy that let the motherf*cker burn when the roof was on fire
Just waiting for the first cat to act so we could size 'em up
Rappers can't get a grip like arthritis
Pocket full of gems but they'd rather hear some hype shit
I'll be on some freaks come out at night crack pipe shit
On tour, two tables and a mic rig
Whipping an M3 Shah paid for in cash
120 smoked up trolls on our ass
And sirens blaring at us but he only sped up
Might leave in a body bag, never in cuffs
With Junkwaffel fresh out of rehab shooting up
Spent like ten minutes combing through the box for the right Dutch
No veins, no dry outer leaf
Staying afloat off an inconsistent salary
Spitting raps, f*cking chicks and slipping through the cracks
Charge it to the game and put it on my tab

We live for the loopholes
Piss drunk mid-day cursing at the suits
We take from the rich and spend it illegally
When hustling CD's don't pay the PSE&G

We live for the loopholes
Piss drunk mid-day cursing at the suits
We take from the rich and spend it illegally
When hustling CD's don't pay the PSE&G
And every day feels like Sunday
Living in a fog playing Lord Finesse tapes
Ashtray full of roaches, head full of dope shit
Phone full of broke chicks, blood and money don't mix
Hell till I reach hell, driving drunk with no seat belt
Whether you boost rigs or chop parts to resell
Ain't nothing that hasn't been said
About breaking bread off the books that I don't recommend
Just watch where you step and who you step over
You don't need no one talking about that you owe 'em
I'ma go for dolo, make moves on the lolo
That's why I don't pose for photos
Quote, unquote

We live for the loopholes
Piss drunk mid-day cursing at the suits
We take from the rich and spend it illegally
When hustling CD's don't pay the PSE&G

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