Racer (Feat. Vic Mensa)

Ayy, yo, Zale, this shit sell off Off to Neverland Verse 1: Rockie Fresh Yeah, we really gotta do it this time, running lights at the funeral line Feeling like the two with the three in behind Young nigga smoke blunts when I'm freeing my mind You seeing the signs, you know my niggas coming correct Self-made buzz, gotta show us respect She say she impressed by the ten on my neck She see the wrist and Rolls, said she wanna neglect, no She wanna snort powder, she wanna see the towers Fuck on me for hours Yeah, I'm living like a dope dealer but the rap game paying more figures, don't know what they told niggas I'm the one that showed niggas Teach you the game, I'll come through, really big bro niggas I remember getting no figures Now the bad bitches want pictures and they wanna fuck with us Yeah, she want Chanel bags Rich and she wanna go tell that Her man say he balling, where the stash at Nigga really ain't a grab but he cap that Cap that Damn, now he wanna battle rap Battle rap Say he want beef, send the cattle back Snitch for the cheese, he a rat pack I just pulled in a ride and it's matte-black Yeah, statements, he cannot retract that Retract that Bitch, I get money, he lack that Lack that I need a crib for my parents My parents His momma looking embarrassed Embarrassed These niggas way too anxious Anxious Really, these niggas should thank us Thank us Rap game way too dangerous Dangerous You ain't even gotta be famous Famous Chorus: Rockie Fresh But you could still ride in the latest Yeah Have bitches that's doing you favors Yeah I gotta get to this paper I need a crib with some acres She wanna ball like a Laker Yeah But I got no time to layup She do the shots with no chaser I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer And I am not stopping for strangers Nah Nah, bitch I can't save you I can't save you I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer Verse 2: Vic Mensa I'm mashing the gas, on the damn run, Pyer Moss sneakers on, that's a rare find Twelve get behind me, I'm runnin' like DMC, don't want no TMZ headlines You know what it is with me, I'm moving differently, can't let them poison my energy You shot yourself in the foot just by dissing me, now we just putting you out of your misery We ain't seen you niggas outside with your dawgs, that shit is a Scooby-Doo mystery She in my DMs, but she your BM, she swallow my kids, she ain't kissing me It's just the Prince in me, my Ralph Lauren Purple Label I'm making Young Money, Freeky got the Draco Hit the boy up, now it's blood on my 'Fazos Stop that cap, Vic ain't this, Vic ain't that Vic in that Rick head-to-toe, where is Morty Red light on the blick, now you think I'm recordin' She give me psychology, I call it Freudian I be with foenem, they tryna fold 'em I cannot fold, I'm not an accordion They say they looking for us and we ain't avoiding 'em Chorus: Rockie Fresh Yeah, and we gon' ride in the latest Yeah Got bitches that's doing us favors Yeah I gotta get to this paper I need a crib with some acres She wanna ball like a Laker Yeah But I got no time to layup She do the shots with no chaser I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer And I am not stopping for strangers Nah Nah, bitch I can't save you I can't save you I push the coupe like a racer I push the coupe like a racer Wait