Freddy Js
Holiday season
Yo, Nineteen in the F9 one in the head
Sleep good every night, all them niggas is dead
You know who it is, DJ Holiday
As I sip my Pino Grigio on you broke ass niggas
I was just wondering did you miss me?
Yo, Nineteen in the F9 one in the head
Sleep good every night, all them niggas is dead
Can't nobody f**k with me, nigga I said
Hellcat red and the Maybach red
New rover red and the G wagon red
Few hit his dreads, hit his chest, hit his legs
Came to f**k your b**ch on the jet, I'm a player
Virgil gave me this, I ain't even gon' wear it
Switches make these dirty muh'f**kas get to sprayin'
Niggas crawling under cars, seen a couple niggas prayin'
Still got them sh*ts duck taped, I'm the man (I'm the man)
I could change your life with thirty grand
All these diamonds on me, they don't even understand
I'm a eastside nigga, Freddy J with the pan (Whip)
Seen him on [?], sh*t hit the fan
Then I sped off in a lamb with Big [?]
Same niggas hating, they was fans, they was fans
Hit every house on his block, I ain't playing
(Bop, bop, bop, bop, bop)
I'm just saying, do you hear that? You know it's some real street sh*t going on. Westside Gunn! Ayo Peezy, get 'em!
Ghetto Boyz, we with that gangsta sh*t
Pull up spank a b**ch
Might just slime you out, need a handkerchief
Come when you least expect it, you gotta be thinkin' quick
I'm out here chasing my dreams
I came a long way, I was chasing fiends
You and me in a different league, my pants is Katie's Chrome Heart jeans (f**kboy)
Might see me out shopping in Paris, I'm buying this sh*t and might not even wear it
Too much Rick Owens, don't know what to wear
I'm not wearing Amiri, got too many pairs
The room I'm in is a thousand a night
Gotta call security to get upstairs
Told my ho if you f**k me tonight, I'm taking you shopping and pay for your hair
If I ever send niggas to get you, they going up top, they ain't grazing your lid
When [?] snatched me off the plane I told him let's do it, I'm sleepy as hell
Know some niggas who sick that I'm winning you know and it's f**k 'em, I tell 'em get well
My crib so muh'f**king big, I made the wrong turn and get lost upstairs
They ever get wind 'bout sh*t that we did, we getting the chair
I put out the word, ain't nobody spared
He blow off your head, he cut off his dreads
I come from nothing to something, I hold my wrist in the air
I'm celebrating, call that ghetto elevation
I got rich, no education nigga
Catch my nigga in the UK, Dolce & Gabbana robe and sh*t
Might be with yo b**ch
Holiday season, Westside Gunn
Classic
