Correction Lyrics Demeanor by Vic Spencer

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Lyrics

Uh
F**k
Is this
I’m up that mother f**kers

I came up out my mommas coochie strapped, doobie wrapped
Fresh pair of nudies with the Louie patch (Fresh)
Pa**enger side of a beamer, demeanor on ten
All of my jet fuel is gone in the wind
Mixing the moon rock, n***as get tube socked for f**king with me
I know my sh*t hard, I don’t care about your feelings
I don’t care about our status and the way you rap is terrible
There he go dissing on rappers again, pa** me gin
N***a bumpy face don’t even comе this way, I’ll levitate
Segrеgate me from all y’all I lost extra weight
Meditate, I really need it
I keep reading, but naïve to a whole lot of sh*t
Like if my chick cheating
I got my own demons, before I go on the deep end
I talk to myself on how I need friends (Sh*t)
I’m kind of off my focus (Uh)
I love my brother Charlie [?] (Charlie)
Rap became one of my biggest hobbies
Everytie I rap I get sicker probably (Ill)
Every other night I keep having dreams of killing bigger Nazis
The taller they are the harder they fall
I’m off Strawberry call [?]
F**k off that wack a** cliché
Black history month coming up and we not celebrating February 18th
That’s President’s Day, we loading up the AKs
Rolling up the KK ride dirty on the eight-trey
Stay to the lake with it
I was up North for a while
I was a child, a juvenile, I got down to business
Big blunts in small closets
This was back then when n***as had enough money to smoke profit
At the same time I made time for killing beats
Feeling chic, blowing on Charlie Sheen, they really weak
I look at rappers like landmines
I dodge them in my Calabasas (Yeah)
Way back when I was flashy I wore Jordan with the Kangols
Airforce Ones the same color of a mango
Five times a day change clothes go ahead rearrange flows
While you at it dammit
Whole bunch of decks of cards like I’m a f**king gambit
Still rock a trenchcoat
I walk up in the place like I been broke
Come out of the restroom Don [?] withs the [?]
They hate Vic, that mean I can’t say that I ain’t sh*t
But I really am the sh*t
I can take who you came with
She rock denim right
Grab her buns she was a genotype (Baby)
Bag her up like groceries, my demeanor nice (Baby)
Back to the f**king rappers (Enough of rappers)
Y’all daydream of touching rappers (Ew)
This why I stay away
I do it so I can come back like layaway
Still don’t get mega plays
Y’all n***as considered feather-weight
V-I-C having batter days mother f-
Man that’s enough Vic
Sh*t that you on been kicking kinda lately
Kinda ill
Last few times you was in this mother f**ker was kinda nuts
Sh*t you been doing kinda lately, kinda funky
Some kind of sh*t
There gon’ be more type of sh*t like that or what my n***a

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