Ant-Live & Jetlag - CPT (feat. KEY!)

Fashionably late, late, late
Grind baby, skate, skate, skate
She wanna date, date, date
Caressed by the hands of the gods
On the wheel they are spinning my fate
On the wheel they are spinning my fate

I ain't fillin' the cap
Why you lie through your teeth
Minister in the mirror
Practicing what I preach
Afterlife, 5 stars
Ski slopes, come and visit
Life is what you gonna make it
My grand father was a witness
Baby can we work it out
Like we building up our fitness
I ain't talking muscle growth
But survival of the fittest
Why you crying for me, is your turn to go and live your life
Looking searching serenade my wife
You are my type.
Let's get it right. Yeah
King Kong off a whole pint of wok
Cop a 40 red light make him a stop
Twinkle twinkle lil baby come shop
Got a fire but your smoke won't pop
Long clips so the bullets stay topped
Ya earth time here finna get cropped
Fry some bacon but I don't speak cop
Bad ideas finna get chopped

Fashionably late, late, late
Grind baby, skate, skate, skate
She wanna date, date, date
Caressed by the hands of the gods
On the wheel they are spinning my fate
On the wheel they are spinning my fate

She gotta cut a line and it's cooking up
Call me Armstrong how I whip it up
Might black out like a funeral
Might cut 'em off, umbilical
Got glock like we (Endure?)
Fucking on the hoe and got bored
They just took another nigga to the morgue
I pulled up and keep going
I kick a bitch out like hike
I kick a bitch out like sike
Goodbye! Hello?!
I just got some R.I.P.'s and I'm way too excited
I just dropped a pin on the smoke and you're invited

Fashionably late, late, late
Grind baby, skate, skate, skate
She wanna date, date, date
Caressed by the hands of the gods
On the wheel they are spinning my fate
On the wheel they are spinning my fate

I just wanna sail and surf the skyline, yeah
Eleven freaky hoes and they mine, mine, yeah
I'm activated 'cause you know it's prime time like Amazon
Loading them brains, ain't no need for brawn
I'm starting a cult and I need some pawns
Step through the fire like Chaka Khan
Tip-toe my step in my aura neat
Ain't no debate, you have several seats
You can borrow my love on the second week
You can swallow my love on the second meet
I don't do the tricks but I got a treat
I don't do the tricks but I gotta see

I just got a pint of Wock like I got laryngitis
Keep the conversation brief like whitey tighties
Punch, fuck 'em

Written by:
Anthony Rodgers, Marquis Whittaker

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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