corrija a letra Letra Last Supper por Dom Kennedy

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You know I gotta drop something
We in here

I've been making plays for a minute, ladies know it's me
Since my jeans had a crease, I ain't never had a lease
Legend in these streets for the way that I can ride a beat
Then get inside a freak, grindin cuz I'm tryna eat
Painting of the last feast, bags full of centuries
n***as can't bring up LA and don't mention me
We was having baggies, sixth grade in the ziploc
Listening to hip hop, my room like a gift shop
These girls wanna lip lock, shе tryna get a wrist watch
Only fly nonstop, Dodgers or the Whitе Sox
Yankees better thank me while I'm here, give me flowers
Beats I devour, come f**k me in the shower
I'm the muthaf**ka with the money and the power
Get paid by the hour, ya mans looking sour
Uh, my main thang was to be major paid
The game sharper than a muthaf**kin' razor blade
They say money bring b*t*hes, b*t*hes bring lies
One n***a get jealous and muthaf**kas die
Depend on me like the first and fifteenth
They might hold me for a second but these punks won't get me
We got mo' n***as with Impalas and big cash
Screaming OPM every time we pass
Screaming OPM every time we pass

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