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letra de no ceilings - joey purp

[intro]
check, check, check, check
yeah
yeah, b-tch
let me light my blunt back up, yeah
ugh
el presidente
yeah

[verse 1]
money, p-ssy, weed
tryin’ to see how much paper the bank teller can bring
hope every blunt strong, i hope every cup clean
i hope every single song make the money counter ding
dead friends, dead friends, rip
‘cause all these p-ssy n-ggas always hatin’ on a g
a fetish for the feta, mozzarella, cheddar, cheese
and for christmas, i might buy myself a glock seventeen
dead men, dead men next to me
‘cause all these dead presidents is bustin’ out my jeans
i got it out the muscle in a circle full of thieves
if they disrespect the crown, they do not deserve a thing
d-mn shame, yeah, ‘cause n-ggas want my old hoes
and they a-tell you no remote, can’t control hoes
b-tches know that i’m the one, like four fours
call this sh-t “hockey rink,” ‘cause the flow cold (yeah)
they say to crawl before you walk, but still i run it up
and use the money counter ’til the money counter jammin’ up
if it stack, then stand it back to back until they done enough
and where we from, they slide broad day, while the sun is up, gang
you in the game, but you no starter
my b-tch screamin’ at a player, like coach carter
every time i got betrayed, it made me go harder
and i ball every day like the fourth quarter
[break]
b-tch, b-tch

[verse 2]
i keep them away like i got leprosy
chopper right next to me, loaded with the pepper seeds
got the extra clip but that’s only for my especiallies, yeah, ugh
and you are talkin’ to the president
if she is not elite, then she can’t walk up in my residence
hit me in advance so i can see how booked my schedule is
i f-ck with bad b-tches: that’s my only preference

[break]
haha, b-tch
ugh
and this, ugh, yeah

[verse 3]
this is especially for y’all
disrespect the game, i can’t expect the referee to ball
swallow your voice, make a n-gga ride with the torch
‘cause the fakest n-ggas ride with the torch
i’ma prolly die old, prolly die in the porsche
and if you stand over my body, i’ll haunt you, of course, yeah
no ice, but she still wan’ chill
i rock the bathing apes ‘cause i’m from the jungle for real, b-tch
[outro]
yeah, ugh
let me light my blunt back up, yeah
knox on the beat, let it knock
yeah, president
b-tch
two t

- joey purp

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