Correction Lyrics Drill For Oil by Radamiz

Back

Lyrics

I am God sent, I am block sent
I ain't talkin' funny, this a New York accent
It's a dirty business but we paying taxes
Bitch we drill for oil, get the spoils, lavish
I got intuition but got schooled on madness
Now you see me, now you don't, don't make me flash shit, woah
Like I'm reminiscing, I will walk right past you
Life is not a trick to me, it's doing magic

Stash the bread, duck the Feds, find rivers for your dirty pistols
On Dee's chessboard, not Bobby Fischer's
On social networks like I'm Rowdy Rebel
Lined up on LinkedIn, do it professional
One man job, I don't do assistance
Not in no gang, but respect ridiculous
Go from Brooklyn to Harlem to Bronx
Too much gifts to fit up in a box with it
With the block rippers, we buy when thе stocks dipping, we bulls like Scott Pippen
Ayy, shot givеr, crop reaper
I see everything from a bald eagle
Heal everything like there's no evil
I am big bro to some old people
Do it my way like I'm Carlito, whisper business I'm the padrino
Read between the lines like a palm reader
It's your time to go whenever God needs you
Vamoose, I'm proof, but still slummin' stacking my loot
Undying knowledge in my kufi, undying love for my troops
No tolerance for that laziness, no fornicate with that paying rent
We buying shit, when skull get steamy we frying shit
See a crease in defense then iron shit
Survival guide for my biases, I ain't proud of it
You work in circles, we trying shit
You getting dizzy, I'm dying rich, yo
Growth spurt, Olympic winner when the pole work, no church
We all sinners but I soul search
It gets chilly it's a cold world, old world, whole world
See the ant farm in the woodworks
See the Merc', see the merch flying, that's a good shirt
Silly boy I cyanide ties
Know you're marrying death when you out flirting with that pride, guy
Trenchcoat like a wise guy my guy
Say, “Hi” on the drive-by my guy
Get tight when the darkness rise
Long necks on the weapon leave you ostracized
Do wrong, then pay tithes
I'm a sore loser, break ties
Bro was facing 25-to-life, I asked him how we survived alright, he said “God”

I am God sent, I am block sent
I ain't talkin funny, this a New York accent
It's a dirty business but we paying taxes
Bitch we drill for oil, get the spoils, lavish
I got intuition but got schooled on madness
Now you see me, now you don't, don't make me flash shit, woah
Like I'm reminiscing, I will walk right past you
Life is not a trick to me, it's doing

I can hit them with that “Synonyms of Strength”, body builder
You ain't hear me walking like this in a minute
I can feel the pressure
I am not regular, I can get sentimental
But I can send the metal through you tryna screw with the decimals
I can move the haikus
Shooting five through, seven through you, ‘nother five through you
Bob Ross now you Caillou'ing
Ha-ha-ha, I'm drowsy
I don't need a milestone, need my own mountain
Add the dead bodies up then pay the accountant
Word to Prada Mama, gettin' love out in Yonkers
YSL on my collar, know you smell it, that's proper
No honor Your Honor, "hakuna matata"
I ain't worried, I'm bout it
I'm sturdy, I'm shoutin'
I'm turning a profit
Ice all on your neck, I'll McFlurry your diamonds
I'll burn you I'll fry you
I'm certain you sherbet, I'll showboat your crown, woo

music video

Your name will be published. Leave fields blanks to remain anonymous.