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Jay Rock

"Show Sumn"

[Produced by Dnyc3 and Trend]

[Hook: Skeme]
Baby I be out'chea thuggin'
You wanna real n*gga, b*tch you ain't said nothin'
No money, that's end of discussion
Man f*ck all the talkin', b*tch show a n*gga somethin', huh
b*tch show a n*gga somethin', huh
b*tch show a n*gga somethin', uhh
Baby I be out'chea thuggin'
Man f*ck all the talkin', b*tch show a n*gga somethin', huh

[Verse 1: Skeme]
f*cked up, towed back
Only thing on my mind, where the hoes at
Hater mad, and he say "He want his ho back
He tryna' keep this sh*t, I gave that n*gga a ho jack
Shut up b*tch, go ahead and poke it
You ain't had di*k, so the wood n*gga stroke it
That ass shake like it's in and out of focus
Turn that dime b*tch to a fiend off of dope dock

[Verse 2: Problem]
Comptown CA, running like a relay
Money make yo' b*tch bring it back, like a replay
Hit yo' ho raw, yeah I be like that
I'm about to make yo' ho c*m, yeah she be right back, in a minute
Give her a Molly, if she timid
Play one of my songs, watch the b*tch get it
Popping that thing like a pill
He won't lick your ass, I will
(Haha, look at they face when I say man, ah f*ck it! what!)


[Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs]
Towed back, f*cked up
Smoking green, codeine in a double cup
Throw them moles on the stove, let 'em bubble up
Pull a fo, drink 'em both like n*gga what
I seen a b*tch, so thick, oh sh*t
Drugged up, so I hit 'er with the dope di*k
Super blunted, stay one hunnid, like 4 bricks
Ridin' on them handle bars, when I wrote this, what

[Verse 4: Jay Rock]
(I'm just a eastside n*gga!!) And she know I'm with the sh*t
Project baby, yeah, she know I got stick
Woah, meet her every time with the stroke
Got 36 ounces, baby know I got blow, yeah
First 40, ate the pus*y on sight
Have her homegirls doin' search party for the swipe
Yeah, girl I got it like that
Got a boomerang thing, so I know she coming right back


[Verse 5: Glasses Malone]
I'm all, the way, wit it
Dinner full of digits, talk it how I live it
n*gga gotta' get it, free my n*gga 50
New snapback, got it so low, the fitted
I done stole all the whores, yeah n*gga, even yours
Had to eat the pus*y, since you wouldn't eat it for 'er
Tell 'er, run it, run it, run it, yeah n*gga call me Forbes
Get you smacked for that fresh pair of jordans

[Verse 6: Bad Lucc]
Ay, I tell 'er paint my face
She said "The homies tellin'", b*tch that ain't my case
She heard I never eat it, b*tch I ain't that fake
She took a look at the snake, b*tch I ain't that jake
Cuz I'mma, sick n*gga, swig hitter
Honey flipper, I'm Bad Lucc, the b*tch kisser
I'm talkin' chicken, outer leggings, she a swish hitter
She seen her n*gga do his thing, but I want this n*gga, yeah


League of Starz

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