Daily Operation

Lyrics
[Intro] Yeah, daily operation (Steady mobbin') Like a high-speed chase (Serious swerves) High stakes in my occupation (Pop a [?] like [?]) TCP (Yeah) [Verse 1: Willie the Kid] Havana Joe, Coco Cabana, banana boat I won't abandon my bros, these hoes are center rows Incentive, scent of a woman, cinnamon rolls Centerfolds, obey the code, we're both supposed Juxtapose, pull a [?] bought a bunch of clothes (Fly) Implode, Rolling Stones banging out the boats (Here you go) Rich niggas from small towns, hanging out the rose We don't know no better (We don't know shit), catch a citation (Wow) And take it up with the city planner (Come here), the mayor whoever (Hey, yo) Yes sir, boss. We's above the law (Running shit) Shots flying out the Ford Taurus (Yeah), shooting up your tour bus Don't be coming toward us (Here we go), the hare versus the tortoise [?], pop a bottle like I dream a genie (Me too) Crime family like [?], [?] [Verse 2: Flee Lord] Take five for the bowlie [?] Mercedes the coop (Skrrrt) Flee I stay in the loop, while you play on your stoop (Fuck outta here) Pussy think he lit up, but he wavy and loose (Fuck outta here) Plus the fifth got a kick like an Arabian moose (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) Nigga, this ain't drip, this is kingpin clothes (Kingpin clothes) They be letting us shop, when you think shit closed (Haha) Hammers get loose, clip poking out the goose (Krrt) Thirty on my wrist, two bands for the shoes (Steppers) Eat the Flee and Willie, we gonn' start and get this milli (Yeah) I ain't worried 'bout beef, I'm heating up the chili My outfits need a passport, since the last tour (A-ha) Watch me throw it off backboard, [?] (Yeah) My name in the books, spitting flame on the hook (Huh) Bought a key of a fleet (Fleet), and it came with a cook (It came with a cook) Connected to the streets, I invested in some heat Brought the bag to the [?], now I [?], yeah (Prrrt) [Interlude: Ransom] I hear you Flee Aye yo, these niggas is dissapointing me, man But the shit that break your heart, clear your vision [Verse 3: Ransom] Listen, this here ain't nothing to laugh at, so relax that What I made last year, you couldn't make half that A hundred grand, that's off my last track, and I'm tryna pass that Just ask black, these sticks gonn' fire, hope you can match that Fear when your mommy cry, ain't no loss of sleep when I'm gas clapped Here's where your body lies, but across the street goes dad [?] No need for acting brash, when your still reliving the past back Y'all went to acting class, but I'm just considered a class act Death is the final call, that's that Swimming in the deep end on a last lap, demon speed on a fast-track You kneeling in this game, I tell 'em, "Nah, that's cap" These niggas moving strange, I tell 'em [?] Niggas fictional, that's facts
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Credits
- Writers
- Willie the Kid