Lady Luck | Funk Flex | #Freestyle038

Lyrics

[Verse] Do you really know what pressure is? When the postman sending parts to your kids Dark heart, cold world but my heat is wrong Type of beef make you sleep with your sneakers on Who the fuck you're sleeping on? SheGod, aka Queen Kong Sit 'em down, lift 'em up, this panel's a seesaw Don't tell me 'bout these broads, they soft Act crazy, we mentally off, prescriptions and all (Dog!) Too many haters trying to holla back Been at the bottom for forever, that's a well known fact Light skin, pretty face with a baseball cap But shit could flip and get uglier than Kodak Black Let a bitch play me, I could never Kodak that I'm Keisha from New Jack, rock-a-bye all that (Blaat!) Bars are back, I really rap, that's why Flex called me Dope since the Reagan era, same shit with Trump in office The dead walkin', bury me, just ain't close to coffin Now I'm floorin' something foreign Dirty mouth, don't need no Orbit Miss Continental, I turn into an instrumental Ought to achoo, sneeze, rip your tissue Official, don't get concerned with little issues So if you'll simply excuse me, got some paper to attend to I'm talkin' 5 stars, can't pronounce this on the menu Rollin' blunts, a loud smell, like omelets on a Hindus Let me continue, switch the pace, witness the great (Uh!) Trade my bitch never be all up in some nigga face Ain't talkin' jean size when I say 40 on the waist Before TV, they knew me all over the place Went from basements to Bravo, from basics to models From catching cases to cases with Magnum gold bottles Y'all do anything for a like or follow On the Bible, it feel like God just hit the lotto Swag drippin' shit, I brag different Shit charge extra for the sauce like McDonald's Luck, where you been? they askin' on the block Front feet lie decayed, yo, these the shoes in the parking lot (Yeah, shoes) Sell CDs to every d-boy walking out So when they speak of going hard, I'm the one they talkin' bout 'Member when they laughed at me, wasn't cool to kick it with me Now they run up with they cameras out, they get a picture with me Only day one niggas with me From a different world like Whitley Lost daughter of Rich Porter, Oprah, and Biggie, yeah Talk of the city, they don't get busy like I, nah Killer flow, change my name to Roseanne Barr, hah No need to cook, I spit that cocaine raw Shit what happened to the beat