Messes have to be cleaned. // Stream The Tape anywhere: [ Ссылка ]
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Verse 1 (DAX):
...you cannot mess with the gang, 'cause my
Lyrics' the trigger, show off, let it bang
...on me, I'm keeping tha' thang
Reloading, my homie, David is tha' king

...Team Future on global, the aim, straight
Packing the ammo, we point and go blammo, we
Laying your body right next to your shadow
Cristiano, but best not cross us up again

Got my affirmative stance
Point at the floor, make you dance
Just iPhone X in my pants
'cause the power's in my hands

You cannot mess with the crew
'spesh when I'm president too
Conclusion, you're sketchy, I drew
Your wifey just messaged "I do"

Finna' go ape in the booth
Banana clips at your coupe
Music'll punch out your tooth
Pulled up just missing the roof

These haters are asking for proof, but the
Work I'm "pudding" be the scoop, still on the
Move, no messing with 72 'cause I'm
Bob The Builder with the tool, the tape, man, it's

True, rap game Takashi Murakami, Virgil Abloh on the shoes, making the
News, point at my homies, going straight Gogeta, Gotenks when I fuse, preach from the
Pews, Jesus is coming back, in fact, he died for gentiles and the jews, girl, get a
Clue, you thought I'm still attached just 'cause, one album, you were the muse? Damn

Verse 2 (Rob):
She was the muse, I am confused, currently sipping on juice
Bending the rules, this what I do, bumping shit all in the coupe
She getting rude, what did I do, I'm just a regular dude
Sitting here, acting a fool, she from the DMV, cutie the fool

You got the juice, nigga, I need the proof
I got a uncle with gold on his tooth
I got a auntie with gold on her tooth
So what did I get, nigga? Gold on my teeth

Fucking with me, nigga: end up a tee
Looking for beef, nigga, bon appetit
My stomach hurts, nigga, I need some tea
Slow down the beat, nigga, I need to breath

I need a roll up my sleeve, I need to roll up some leaves
I need a chill on the beat, I need a chill on the beat
I need a Canada Breeze, I need a girl from the six
I need a girl with some sense, I need a girl with some bands

No nigga, you not my mans, I’m balling like Kevin Durant
'cause nigga, there is no chance, niggas know I am the champ
Y'all niggas dressing so champ, niggas is lit like a lamp
Nigga, we lit like a lamp, nigga, we lit like a lamp

Verse 3 (Kez):
Aye - bitch, I be lit like a lamp
Shoot: I don’t miss, I’mma hit em right where he stand
And all you ever wanna do is talk that shit on the gram
So I’mma hit you with that "gra-ta-ta" and then "blam"

I’m on my real shit, probably not ever gonna get famous
If I don’t, then I’m jugging the city before I flame it
If I’m on the block, then I’m always 'bout the gang shit
32, 100 of squad is on that lame shit

...
...aye
I let the chopper go bang
I let the choppers exchange

Yeah, you always 'bout the lame shit
Bitch, I’m always on the lang shit
Yeah, I’m always with my gang, bitch
Yeah, I’m always with the gang, bitch

Bitch; fucked up, know my
Chopper hot, that gra-ta-ta
I probably pop, fucking on your
Thot before I drop your block

I love that you talking, know my team was
Never novice, we was always climbing
You’d rather sit back and watch it, settle for
Less make me sick, so I’m nauseous

Got more fucking ki than every spirit bomb at once
My energy so overwhelming; I could drop the sun, with a
Flick of my wrist; cause I ain’t even begun, all my
Squad has 30 forms; and you’ve only seen one

Verse 4 (WalTreClay):
DAX said don’t mess with the crew
Catch me posted up in Lex with the troops
I do not fuck with the wave
Searching 'round again for something to say

Team Future with the Walt
I been up inside the vault
Haters you can suck my left nut
Everybody wanna ball

I been up, drifting inside the spaceship
Twisting a blunt while in levitation
Bitch, I’ve been moving across eight states
Just tryna' be picking up on the pace, man

Now, I’m ripping like a fucking P90
And now I got my fucking city behind me
My homies just really trying to get it
Only moving forward and never rewinding

Bulletproof in the booth, me and Kami got the moves, and I’m vibing with the
Juice, dabbing, diving in the soup, I'm just tryna' get a clue - true
Bitch, I’m riding with the gang, and I’m hot rod with the flames, never fond of all the
Fame, driving off the fucking lane, dipping and swerving up in the suburban, they

Always be nervous whenever around me
It’s like they wanna talk about me
I’ve been late to almost everything, it’s
Like I’m even late up on the downbeat

I make music with my homies
Bitch, you ain’t even fucking know me
So get the fuck up off the stage
You talking like a fake ass motherfucking OG

- Lyrics continue on Genius -

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