Dead Presidents II

Lyrics
[Intro] Yeah Fayettenam Uh [Verse 1] These niggas is playin' Russian roulette with a full clip, foolish My crew is fool-less, no, we don't dance, all we do is stay two steps ahead Make the hoes get loose like a noose neck instead while these dudes beg for head They got the game twisted Heavy traffic in this rap shit, look how my lane shifted Elevated my game, lifted my name, now these lame niggas could never get it Like that bad bitch you wanted, but could never hit it Clever with it, my flow like a devil spit it and heaven sent it So high, if I dropped, I would fall for eleven minutes So yeah, I operate on a higher plane, my thoughts take a higher train If dope, then you should know the supplier's name Is J. Cole, set of horns and a halo And all these Jose Cansecos wanna text us like Waco Hard to remain faithful, niggas be throwin' hate Yo, I'm in a league of my own, so what the fuck would I play for? Some next niggas almost slid in, but didn't fit in Naw, I ain't Maury Povich, but who the fuck is you kiddin'? These big-wig niggas throwin' they bid in Try not to show stress, I guess the flow is protested like a sit-in I told my niggas we would get in, but that ain't even half the battle Stay behind like a shadow or you catapult Now if I had a ladder or now even if I had a rope I'd climb that motherfucker to the top and never let it go, yeah [Chorus] Uh, I'm out for presidents to represent me, nigga I'm out for presidents to represent me, yeah I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me Warm Up Yeah, Warm Up Yeah, Warm Up This is The Warm Up [Verse 2] Ayy, look Heaven or hell, you choose, freedom or jail, you lose I can't stop, I'm as hot as the devil's shoes Overcame a low-life status to blow like Gladys Ahead of my time like I live my whole life backwards I'm nothing like these ho-like rappers, my whole life practice To be the one, what's it like to be LeBron? They calling you the savior, so much pressure, but you deal with it The weight of the world on your shoulders, but you still lift it Ill with it for real, lil' nigga from Ville that real niggas can feel Nobody taught us how to cook, still niggas'll grill, no Foreman Try not to call them ladies bees, but them hoes swarmin' Now, honey, ayy, is it destiny or is it money you're feelin'? Heard rumors of a deal and now you're thinkin' a million Pardon my paranoid mind, but I'm starin' in the mirror Livin' in fear that things'll never be the same No one left for me to blame but myself 'cause I asked for this Headed for fame, but in my brain, hey, can I last in this? Ayy, five years, I'll probably laugh at this Try not to let it wear me out like a bad bitch with fashion sense I keep it fresh while these wack niggas rehashin' shit Jackin' styles, you know, ski mask and shit I pass these niggas, they tryna do it how these other niggas did it I'm tryna live it how no other nigga ever lived it [Chorus] I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me Dead fuckin' presidents to represent me I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me Dead fuckin' presidents to represent me The Warm Up Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, The Warm Up Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, The Warm Up, ayy [Outro] Yeah, Fayettenam, nigga, yeah Ayy, Carolina all day Yeah I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me, hey
Rate this song
0/5.0 - 0 Ratings
Loading comments...
Credits
- Writers
- J. Cole