Correction Lyrics Fashawn Freestyle: LA Leakers Freestyle #070 by Fashawn

Back

Lyrics

So much pressure
Nah come on man you built for this man, it’s the LA Leakers (yeah)
Justin Credible, Sourmilk (that’s right)
Aah Yo, Fresno’s here man (wow)
Ay, ay, don’t let the um, the Niners jacket fool you, ya’ heard?
Fash repping that Northern California right?(or is it, is it Central?)
Central California to be exact, you know what I’m saying? (right in the middle)
Let’s put this Central Cali on the map (yeah)
Shout out to my boy Zee Will, you know what I’m saying, he in the building too
Uh, what it do (Fashawn’s here)
Or what a dookie
Should I come before the one or like after thе one? Probably like-
Or should I let it brеathe?  Just a little Yeah we could let it breathe a little bit
Should I lubricate it or just go right in? (uh, that’s up to her, that’s up to her) (wow wow wow wow)

Yo, I made it out the jungle like Jabari (’kay)
Hundreds in the Safari
As a youngun, all I ever wanted was a Ferrari
Tailor-made suits and alligators for my Mauri
Meanwhile my stomach rumbling like a Harley
Momma stumbled in, m-mumbling off Bacardi
Unaware they identified her son in a robbery
Coulda been anybody but luckily never got me
Transition of rap, from Saran wrap bricks in the trap
Distributing crack
Wiggling through the industry as if it was the avenue
You in it for the clout, I’m in it for the collateral (yeah)
What you think I rhyme for, to push a Honda Accord? (mm)
It’s worth a dollar sign every time I record
Made it from the bottom, survivor’s remorse
Bullet holes in brick walls, uh
n***a I’m from the gutter that p*ss-stained pavement
You get your first 12-gauge at age 10
Where there’s too many snakes, rats making statements
My n***as go and grab sticks, they cavemen
‘Nuff of that, brush it under a rug my rugged past found another path to come up with cash that’s legal
Stats, that’s regal
Fash, stack zeros
I attract money like Magneto
n***a, my karma straight, I’m beyond the great
Can’t wait to invite y’all to the don’s estate  let’s go man
Acres of land (yeah), a lawn a lake
Alarms at gate, firearms in case
A motherf**ker trying- uh
He gon’ end up a mummy don’t ever play with my money n***a
Yo, my talent was my ticket outta poverty
I never bought a ticket to the lottery

music video

Your name will be published. Leave fields blanks to remain anonymous.