lirik lagu boldy james & conductor williams - offwhite lumberjack
[intro]
(conductor)
you already snow that (227)
(ahahaha)
it’s bo jack (the living legend)
let’s get it (a legend in two sports)
[verse 1]
to be or not to be, crime school, and i majored in philosophy (that’s major)
band proctor with drums, got a doctor’s in criminology (drum roll)
razorin’ the hard for that color money, monopoly (razor ramon)
gazin’ at the stars in that cullinan, that’s astrology (double~r)
dingy t~shirt, a hunnid stacks, sara lee, high velocity (a hunnid)
flip the work with a money~back guarantee, that’s the policy (no hassle)
soccer mom full of parakeets (get away), cherokee obsolete (a relic)
all of this valentino drip, i feel like bobby v (yeah)
golf caddyin’ with the pack, i’m on my johnny p (on my bing)
bro just copped a pill press, pressin’ up them chinese vs (press)
ninety gs in the sofa cushion came from overcookin’ (ayy)
all this dopе i’m pushin’, f~ck your label, i should sign to fiends (f~ck it)
it’s real mafia, what еlse? roll the credits behind the scenes (roll it)
whole lotta gang sh~t, big chains and diamond rings (big gang)
ebony and ivory, my n~ggas in the ivy league (ayy)
smellin’ like new money, creed, baccarat and irish tweed (new money)
let’s get it (no new n~ggas)
[chorus]
my english broken and my plug don’t speak no inglés (ayy)
he know i keep some motion like i’m sellin’ dope on ebay (it’s only us)
i run it up then run it back just like a replay (run it)
never been a runner~up, been runnin’ laps, this sh~t a relay (run it up)
my creatures toastin’ in the club with all the leeway (ayy)
when i was callin’ home from county on a three~way (let’s get it)
but now me and my creatures pourin’ wocky on a pj (227)
let’s get it (mafia, what else?)
[verse 2]
went from the pjs to the pj (ayy)
rockin’ buffs, genuine h~rn, these ain’t no miches (no, not at all)
spin them chirps like a turntable, go, dj (go, dj)
it take money to make money, that’s so cliché (speedin’ it up)
totin’ glock, .357, stirrin’ up a pot (rrah, rrah)
it’s concreatures, 227, f~ck the fbi (gang)
i’ma get this money off the fent’ ’til the well run dry (it’s blocks)
eight~hundred grams in the vent, tryna trail my driver (eight~hunnid)
made a mountain out a molehill, i’m the real the macgyver (i’m that one guy)
turn your block into roadk!ll, ambitions as a grinder (ayy)
hook, line, sinker, trap his keeper like a book binder (concreatures)
in the hood with the shottas, puffin’ on the good ganja (ayu)
been f~cked up in the head ever since they took tonya (my baby)
47~hundred block, spot doin’ jumpin’ jacks (yeah)
retro mike & ikes, off the off~white lumberjack
let’s get it
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