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letra de not average - jay fizzle

[intro: big moochie grape & jay fizzle]
uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah
big tello (johnnyturnitup)
uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah
ching, ching
uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, gigantic
ayy, free muwop ’til that sh-t spelled backwards
uh, uh, uh, gigantic
gang sh-t, no lame sh-t
uh, uh, uh, big moochie

[verse 1: big moochie grape]
yeah, always been really frontline in the field, that’s why these n-ggas follow me (these n-ggas follow me)
yeah, n-ggas be talkin’ like b-tches, but that sh-t, it really don’t bother me (it really don’t bother me)
yeah, got money stuffed all in my pockets, lookin’ like i hit the lottery (racks, racks, yeah)
uh, young n-gga goin’ to the top, goin’ hard ’cause that’s where i gotta be (that’s where i gotta be)
all of my ex-b-tches tryna come back, tryna give me apologies (ha)
sit in the trap and i break down the pack and i whip it like pottery (whip)
5.56 hit his artery
east haiti baby, i’m stuck in the village, i run the whole colony
whatever i do, they gon’ copy me
n-ggas lil’ boys, they be mockin’ me
but they know it ain’t no stoppin’ me
f-ckin’ on bad b-tches by the three
pop me a 20, go hercules
b-tch, we c’t go public, can’t go on say cheese
f-cked her onne time no the eb-tch tryna date me
seen all this ice, now the b-tch tryna rape me (d-mn)
yeah, we can f-ck, but i can’t buy you celine
say she a maid, so i made that ho daydream (ha)
tryna get to me, she say that she crave me
ain’t lovin’ no ho, yeah, you b-tches get traded
broke on the b-tch, sold the p-ssy at days inn (yeah)
askin’ me how my life been, it’s amazin’ (it’s amazin’)
cashin’ big checks and big blunts i be blazin’
thick, pretty b-tch and she black and she asian
had some dark clouds, but i passed all them phases
love all my n-ggas, been stuck since the playpen
puttin’ that foul on them n-ggas since way then
i’m illuminati business, all that my n-ggas do is sin (on god)
[chorus: big moochie grape]
i got the game in a chokehold, foot on they neck though, got all my watches, tryna see what i’m finna do
young n-gga fresh as f-ck, vvv hittin’ up, designer-ed down, but i jordan-ed my tennis shoes
baguette my cartier, b-tches, they stop and stare, walkin’ up on me like, “you ain’t the average dude”
my lil’ homie with me, he got him a fifty, you thinkin’ sh-t sweet, frrt, frrt, he gon’ murder you

[verse 2: jay fizzle]
got a safe full of paper growin’ mildew
yeah, i’m ballin’ like a basketball player, but i ain’t hoopin’, only straps a n-gga shoot
tell the crowd it’s free moochie (free the gang)
i don’t f-ck with rappers, n-ggas cap, they coochie
neck and wrist froze, b-tch, i’m colder than an ice cooler
heard buddy hatin’ on me, but his b-tch been groupie
tell him better go and check his b-tch ’cause he callin’ me, i’m shootin’
swear i ain’t boxin’ no n-gga, try to come fight with them bullets
thirty round on me, now they wanna be the gang, gotta say so
every n-gga ’round me on go like a 304
bet the opps scared, n-ggas really don’t want smoke
tryna catch ’em with the chopper, knock ’em down like dominos
search my f-ckin’ friend, swear these n-ggas pablo
like clothes at the mall, place a tag on your toe
wanna keep your b-tch, put a tag on that ho
homie deep in his feelings, i’m deep in his big girl’s throat
heard they gon’ k!ll me, go tell ’em bring it on
why the f-ck i ain’t dead yet? tell them n-ggas stop prolongin’
tryna walk down, fah, fah, facetime his ass, no iphone
chop hold a hundred, hit your block, shoot for so long
swear i keep it on me, never catch me slippin’
yeah, i’m grape street for real, ho, don’t play with my crippin’
swear i’m tied down for real, always standin’ on business
think i’m takin’ perc’ 30s ’cause my trigger finger stay itchin’
yeah, i swear a n-gga still couldn’t see me, had 20/20 vision
got a pocket full of cheese like a philadelphia philly (racks)
tote a chopper on me, same size as a midget
can’t stand the heat, tell him stay his ass out the kitchen (p-ssy)
got the f&n on me, run up, do him like a pimple (f&n)
blue tips put a hole in his face, give him dimples (fah, fah)
spent 30k to the golds, i told ’em, “turn my t–th popsicle”
got your b-tch wanna f-ck ’cause i’m somethin’ that you not, n-gga
[chorus: big moochie grape]
i got the game in a chokehold, foot on they neck though, got all my watches, tryna see what i’m finna do
young n-gga fresh as f-ck, vvv hittin’ up, designer-ed down, but i jordan-ed my tennis shoes
baguette my cartier, b-tches, they stop and stare, walkin’ up on me like, “you ain’t the average dude”
my lil’ homie with me, he got him a fifty, you thinkin’ sh-t sweet, frrt, frrt, he gon’ murder you

[verse 3: big moochie grape]
n-gga, you a b-tch and no one ever hear of you
get a pallbearer, we gon’ make ’em put dirt on you
your family gon’ hurt when they go get a shirt of you
put this drac’ to your face and we make you play peekaboo (yes, sir)
i been with the sh-t the whole time, yeah, you n-ggas knew (yes, sir)
and them d-ck suckers with you, just know they gon’ get it too (yes, sir)
stackin’ my money up ’til it grow mildew (yeah, yeah)
trap, rob, and murder, the sh-t that i been through (yes, sir)

[outro: jay fizzle]
got a safe full of paper growin’ mildew
yeah, i’m ballin’ like a basketball player, but i ain’t hoopin’, only straps a n-gga shoot
tell the crowd it’s free moochie
i don’t f-ck with rappers, n-ggas cap, they coochie

- jay fizzle

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