SLATT 47 X STU - WINGS

Broken wings or not
I be flyin' to the top charts
I be listening to yo' last tape
It sounded like some straight farts
I ain't homer
Gotta bag up my donuts
And bring em' back to marge

I been rappin' for a minute now
Working on my craft
Boo's when you walk on stage
Like Roger Goodell tryna host the draft
Teachin' girlie how to drive a stick shift with my staff
I can get my bic flicked
Faster than countin' a stack
(Sparkin' a wood)

Caught yo' last homie
At the Kwik-E-Mart
With the quickie situation
Thought girlie knew me
We ain't had no relations
I'm taking 10 toes today
With no repercussions

Better yet we gon' run up the score
Then we gon' tip our caps
Girlie ain't wearing V-lone
But she still dripping' from the back
Fill the room with sum' goofy
Blowin' laughin' gas

Crack a Red Bull
With some red oil
My junkie bout' got off
but left a hit in some foil
My pops sittin' out
But I ain't finna let it spoil
(Damn I need to stop that shit)

Good hindsight
I'm reminiscing over girlies ass
Good eyesight
Spot the bullshit even without my glasses
I never drop the wood
But a wood with some drop
Got me moving like molasses
Me and Stu jus upped the price
You can kiss both of our asses
Like you talking to Vincent McMahon
Ion' need to hear about it if there ain't no chicken in the plan

Broken wings or not
I be flyin' to the top charts
I be listening to yo' last tape
It sounded like some straight farts
I ain't homer
Gotta bag up my donuts
And bring em' back to marge

Written by:
Carter Kline, Dylan Studebaker

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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