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London on da Track
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We got London on da Track You mad, brotha, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a bus, but I'm whippin' the Wraith Got my head to the ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way I ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, f**k it 'cause I don't feel the pain Let a brotha touch my chain, f**k it, brotha, kill him, f**k it, they can take me away I got my dawgs in this b*t*h, I know they gon' shoot sh*t up And my lil' brother turned to a drummer Walked him outside, now he got the llama I took that Maybach where the J's at Tell my brothers ball a hundred summers All my hittas know run up them numbers f**k it, run up them numbers (Yeah) Run up them numbers OKC, you don't want no thunder The old Tracy McGrady, the one OKC, you don't want no thunder, yeah Christian the sweater Okay, Christian Dior the sweater The double R came with the umbrella When I put the hoodie on, it get realer, yeah Put a hundred thousand in my Prada jeans Got some little homies, got some prodigies And I spent five hundred on Prada tees Made it out the projects, poppin' overseas Shawty gave me sloppy toppy on the seat I make some calls, you can't cop the fleet Gotta be an antisocial gangster 'cause the feds watchin' my tweets You mad, brotha, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a bus, but I'm whippin' the Wraith Got my head to the ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way I ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, f**k it 'cause I don't feel the pain Let a brotha touch my chain, f**k it, brotha, kill him, f**k it, they can take me away I got my dawgs in this b*t*h, I know they gon' shoot sh*t up And my lil' brother turned to a drummer Walked him outside, now he got the llama I took that Maybach where the J's at Tell my brothers ball a hundred summers All my hittas know run up them numbers f**k it, run up them numbers f**k it, I ran up the numbers Piped up like a plumber And sold all the bundles I paid off the debt to your honor And went got some commas and commas and commas You let it get to your head, yeah, I remember when you was a runner I heard you got snatched by the feds, yeah, say you willin' to tell 'em whatever (Yeah) I still be killin' in projects, even though I been runnin' them numbers up They used to tell me I'm not next, I'm like look at me now, I'm in front of them And I just hope you never set me up, my lifestyle too irregular And I don't know how I'ma trust again, I swear Audemars might f**k up your eyes, yeah I bust down a piece of the pie, yeah I wanna speed off in a Cayenne I got a cup full of Hi-Tech Have a pool party with the posse We be the talk of the topic These f**k hittas don't where the drop at They won't want us ridin' in the drophead And he mad that my b*t*h got a Masi' You mad, brotha, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a bus, but I'm whippin' the Wraith Got my head to the ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way I ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, f**k it 'cause I don't feel the pain Let a brotha touch my chain, f**k it, brotha, kill him, f**k it, they can take me away I got my dawgs in this b*t*h, I know they gon' shoot sh*t up And my lil' brother turned to a drummer Walked him outside, now he got the llama I took that Maybach where the J's at Tell my brothers ball a hundred summers All my hittas know run up them numbers f**k it, run up them numbers
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