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letra de r.o.y.s. - showmann tha' lion

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yeah

show. ohio

-clears throat–

[verse 1]
wrist check, flex check, bouta blow my next check/
the movement quarterback, you ain’t ever gonna sak me/
hacky, hack my computer for some leaked sh-t/
her -ss real soft, but i never keep a weak b-tch/

hoe i’m just enjoying the ride/
feet up, beat up blowing smoke in my jordan 5s/
heat up tree bruh, i’m trying to get in the skies/
but i’m always myself, remain that even with the wealth/

i’m the truth in the booth, best believe i spit that cold sh-t/
my rap book is crack cook, right overs your stove b-tch/
oh sh-t, listening to this is like a dope hit/
even if i lost my camera, wouldn’t lose focus/

cheese, but these rats are not eating/
these other rap n-ggas just not competing/
n-ggas sweat as eating sundaes listening to the weeknd/
on the weekend while they n-ggas tuck the sheet in pause/

and my diamonds ain’t familiar with yalls/
because my diamonds ain’t familiar with flaws/
and yo b-tch, she ain’t familiar with walls/
cause she don’t even get to see the crib my nig we in the car/

i’m cuddled with a couple of models going full throttle in that mera’ 911 i flex like i hit the lotto/
because i’m rich(broke), i don’t worry about sh-t yet/
ain’t worried about a p-ss test, mary she’s my girlfriend/
but i use her like my mistress/

f-ck all that “bro” sh-t we ain’t cool, no g-y incest/
my only interest is how to make big checks and then flex/
harder than you n-ggas, lil smarter than you n-ggas/
jordans on, thats a pair of sean carter for you n-ggas/

boy i’m yae’s 2nd coming, 20 bars and still running/
i told her back that -ss up and you can skip all the fronting/
i know you up in college and that bread you gotta work for it/
but i gotta $100 dollars hoe, why wouldn’t you twerk for it/

why wouldn’t you twerk for it? (you probably would twerk for it hoe) b-tch don’t even deny/
if not you’d probably go broke and have to apply for devry/
coming live from the east side, ain’t sh-t sweet no nehi/
at sweet spot we outside sipping mystic key lime/

[hook]
(x4)
oh sh-t, listening to this is like a dope hit/
ri-ri-right over your stove b-tch/

[verse 2:]
you n-ggas better, break bread before i break legs/
f-ck around put your whole d-mn career up on its neck/
its me, cap flex, at the same address/
so girl you know just where to come to get out of that dress/
(uh)

hi my name is showmann baby girl i like to flex a little/
i might ask for p-ssy even tho we only text a little/
girl don’t be offended sh-t thats just the way i live it/
ain’t no lies up in my raps, all my pictures are real vivid/

as if you could’ve been there, in that casual menswear/
section on the bench chillin, in that saks 5th boutique/
you playing chicken with a mack truck boy you better grab your cleats/
cuz we don’t play no f-cking games, unless we playing them for keeps/
hoe

[hook]

[verse 3:]
i’d rather spit something that got a purpose, showmann in the booth i’m always putting work in/
so many n-ggas getting deals and don’t even be worth it/
so when i make it to the top, know that i deserve it/

d-mn baby that -ss is nice, tell me whats your asking price/
girl do i really gotta ask you twice or you gon let me smash tonight/
eating all these beats and i ain’t even had no appet-te/
hastags lies told in my raps, i’m trying to take everybody’s slice/

no kimbo, blue timbs hoe, i got lil n-ggas that will pop you like a pimple/
for some retros, that simple, they banging like some cymbals, with they kinfolk, over heavy b-ss instrumentals/
and i’m doing my absolute best to not come off so sedimental/

homie trust god, work hard and do not talk to carl winslows/
got my leg up on the wall, ilthy bookbag full of demo’s/
tme up in the house, even tho i don’t got metro b-tch/

dead

- showmann tha lion

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