6 Lines
• Written by TyCools
Uh
It makes me so sick i lose weight
I’m letting all my niggas grab a plate
You can't see me when i'm tapping that Lemonade
You are not my French
See, you're my best friend
Traded in my Nikes for a new mic
I guess it’s safe to say he sold soles for his new life
Also, this mothafucka got a nine to five
You worthless kid. nigga don't deserve to live
Murderer, shmurderer, burgular, counselor
I'm a muscular open-minded verbular bachelor
(does that even exist)
And you know my drift
Feelin' those things that i missed
All I need is one life, one try, one breath I'm one man
What I stand for speaks for itself, they don't understand
My ambition is wicked i put that shit on my hand
I understand, i'm back by popular demand
Kill him where he stand and stand over him, shake his hand
So Kendrick LLama can say
I was raised this way
Muchas gracias amigo
Magneto, blew up like a torpedo
She so sweet, shortie feed my ego
yesterday I saw a painting within a painting
being paint by the painter painting the painting
who is also painting himself
Paintception...
Fred fed Ted bread, and Ted fed Fred bread
then Ned stayed in bed took his headset
because he was upset on his Man United bet
What's that ?
Nigga don't let me distract to the fact
that you are whack, exact
You know what my N-word let me just disconnect
Tycools - 6 Lines
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About the Artist
TyCools
Member since April 9 2015