David Espinoza - (305)-220-6894

Yeah, uh, woah
Yeah, uh, woah. yeah
Hit the pavement jack
What you say to that
Life is getting kind of boring
Bring the haters back
Where my angels at
Where my traitors at
Yeah, If heaven is a party
Publix caters that
Woah
Y'all get paid to act
I do it free of charge
Now everybody's looking around Like who put me in charge
I got unreleased records that'd Probably top the charts
I'm bad at keeping secrets though So now it's on to living large
I'm super serious
You're too delirious
I'll always be the cutest but won't Keep up with appearances
Yeah
I guess the pearls turn heads then
Had them for a while
I don't burn through trends, man
You might think you're cute
But you're not no ten ben
Unless you loving Jesus
That's a whole new lens, friend
You should do that
I love meeting new people
But I'd rather have the crew back
I post the record on my story Knowing that they knew that
Like, David dropped a single
Oh my goodness
Can you queue that
Oh my goodness
Can you queue that?
AC broke because the heat was Turned up
Aw shucks
Go to church everybody knee skirt
Shirt tucked
Did it hurt?
Did what hurt?
When you dove, like a dove
Out of heaven up above
I carry chairs, she in love
I'm a gospel rapper
I rap for Jesus
He will always be my king
But I'll respect my caesar
I'm not really a salad guy
But color me a pleaser
I stay drenched in bleu cheese
Because I'll never know when I Could meet her
I'm an optimist
Who's in my prime like Optimus
You think that's cap?
Well here's a number
For a good optometrist
I'm saying

Three oh five, two two zero
Six eight nine four
Hit me up, go ahead
I mean, why not
I got my hands in the sand
I'm not talking Miami
I didn't say toes because
That's kind of nasty
I'm not even joking
Put those dogs away Kathy
I know where you live and
I swear that I'm packing
I'm kidding
I'm kidding
I don't got a gun
But I hope that you know
In those chancs you can't run
And even if you could
I'd still go for your son
Or your brother
Your mother
Your daughter
Your cousin
Your grandmother, grandfather
Give a grand hug to
Your granddaughter
Next time you got to wear sneaks To the barber
I used to like you, but now
You a martyr
Speaking of barbers I got to get cut
So I go to the gym, like six
Seven times
A week?
Nah a month
I ain't no chump
I don't need wishes
But I just spoke to 'Gene
And he told me I'm gump
Man what a pump
Not coming down like
I'm stuck in my jump
Not coming down like
I'm stuck on the sun
Your jaw's on the ground
And the song isn't done
Yeah
I'm already in all your top five
And I started this song on an
Off night
So I get that it kind of is alright
But the praise be to God hold the Cross tight
Yeah
I'll pack out arenas
Just like I'm a Curry
Can't see it, I'm Cena
Your vision is blurry
A jack of all trades
So I'm not in a hurry
A jack of trades
So I'm noted like wrthy
I'm saying
Whew

Written by:
david espinoza

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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