lirik lagu tom the mail man - sofa
[verse 1: tom the mail man]
heartless, b~tch, yeah
that sh~t pierced like cartilage
knife through that place where my mo’f~cking heart is
she bad as f~ck so the crime might be pardoned
she like to start sh~t and i push to start it
brand new whip from tdc it’s plastered on the back of it
i pack that sh~t like swisher sweets, i’m rapping on some platinum sh~t
ay, at me b~tch, when you’re talking using your f~cking chest
so i can hyperbeam that sh~t and put my demons all to rest
i flex like like
i’m on some ignorant sh~t
but if you push my limits, b~tch, i might get ignorant quick
like putting n~ggas around b~tches, you like egos that’s big
you got my feelings all hit
and b~tch i feel like a kid
in grown man’s shoes
f~cking dying, n~gga, where the said tools? i’m mental
n~ggas think i’m cool cause i can ride, uh
cause i can ride this, um
this f~cking instrumental
[verse 2: mrtl gawd]
uh, uh, yeah
quesos in my pocket, i exceed the quotas
your b~tch my b~tch, his chick don’t smoke, but you know marijuana’s
on the couch, i’m tee’d out, but n~gga, barely mobile
pop the trunk, yeah, bout that skunk, yeah
i l!ck top of yogurt
i’m fully loaded like i’m herbie, same suit
martin luther, f~ck that b~tchin’
4~5 on the waist
45 i’m back to back
left ’em shook without a hook, cause me and mine go back to back
you know tom deliver rhymes, and he just drop me off a pack
i’m so solo, no derulo, all these n~ggas h~lla pseudo
get your weight up, he ain’t eating how i feast, like i’m a sumo
grease, rest in peace to peep
peeping how i speak, like b~tch i talk it didn’t exist
pistol came in with a grip
main objective is to rid all these n~ggas
i got the x and a~b combo
swear, it’s it for these n~ggas
h~lla rusty, but i’m serving, need a tip from you n~ggas
boy, i flatten out the track, extended clip on my pillow
basic kick, always knocking, line ’em up with a beam
i swear to god, i have ’em stomach talking sh~t
how i’m always talking sh~t
guacamole’s in my molds, like “why he always talking chips?”
and i’m hardened after three the way my mo’f~ckin’ rock get hit
spot him quick and take him out
[verse 3: tom the mail man]
i ain’t got no patience now
you b~tches acting shady so i shine in my mercedes, ow
though it hurts, kick the verse instead of cursing b~tches out
your mama said i’m bout it, pops, so all them n~ggas missing now
[outro]
clout sucking b~tches
dirty toll having b~tches
flapjack booty having ass b~tches (ay, uh)
i’m salty as f~ck (salty as f~ck) haha
(you’ve got mail)
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