Ice Cream Testo
Testo Ice Cream
Yea
Well I ride
H O T R tres
Ay see,
I didn’t wanna say three, I said tres
Kim Jong ill, look
I promise I got my foot on the neck of all these niggas, ain’t thinking ‘bout letting up
So tired of tryina feed my family I’m fed up
My pockets is fucking empty, heart is foolin my dreams These rappers is full of shit with they bars and full of ki’s
I promise all this non-sense is stopping, I’m popping that niggas
And I ain’t stutter, I ain’t coughin, I’ll coffin a nigga
Flow too crazy, my story’s too real and my bitch too bad, Giuseppe’s in naughty heels I’m killin
Bottom line, in my time, I’m ready and willin
Step in your district, step in your buildings ah
I feel like Snoopy 9-5
Got songs with the chef, I’m buzzing like a beehive nigga
I’m a beast, you a fuckin feline nigga
Played out like them old felies
All black Jordan tens and I’m lookin for a mill
Tryina build a stacked house on that green hill
All my fans say Paypa you real
How the fuck you found the words that’s describing how I feel?
Promise when you make it you ain’t never gonna stop
And promise to represent when you make it to the top
I promise!
Metropolitan nigga, cosmopolitan flow
Neapolitan woman, ice cream heady on
Uh, paper baby, BCC Get yourself a glass, HOTR 3
Yea
A’ight, I don’t even got nothing else to say about that shit man
Lil ice
Lil Henny
You know
BCC tho
Bitch, 3
Right when niggas thought it was over, right when they said I’m done
I focused on all my writings, now I’m right there at the cusp
Uh, feels good to be called great
All these bloggers depart, especially the ones that hate it
All the OG’s say I’m ready for the torch
Lunchin them piñatas, then I’m headin to the source
Missile you’re asking bout cash relationships
I say that ship’s sailed and to me it don’t exist
I wish a well, I wish a life
They say you only live once, this is twice
I had a Henny party down in Soho
50 bottles of the Henny bottles, I was so gone and so on
I dedicated my whole life to this rap shit
Lost a lot of friends but that’s past tense
Just a south side nigga tryina get it
West side murda with my white sacks fitted, hold on
Well I ride
H O T R tres
Ay see,
I didn’t wanna say three, I said tres
Kim Jong ill, look
I promise I got my foot on the neck of all these niggas, ain’t thinking ‘bout letting up
So tired of tryina feed my family I’m fed up
My pockets is fucking empty, heart is foolin my dreams These rappers is full of shit with they bars and full of ki’s
I promise all this non-sense is stopping, I’m popping that niggas
And I ain’t stutter, I ain’t coughin, I’ll coffin a nigga
Flow too crazy, my story’s too real and my bitch too bad, Giuseppe’s in naughty heels I’m killin
Bottom line, in my time, I’m ready and willin
Step in your district, step in your buildings ah
I feel like Snoopy 9-5
Got songs with the chef, I’m buzzing like a beehive nigga
I’m a beast, you a fuckin feline nigga
Played out like them old felies
All black Jordan tens and I’m lookin for a mill
Tryina build a stacked house on that green hill
All my fans say Paypa you real
How the fuck you found the words that’s describing how I feel?
Promise when you make it you ain’t never gonna stop
And promise to represent when you make it to the top
I promise!
Metropolitan nigga, cosmopolitan flow
Neapolitan woman, ice cream heady on
Uh, paper baby, BCC Get yourself a glass, HOTR 3
Yea
A’ight, I don’t even got nothing else to say about that shit man
Lil ice
Lil Henny
You know
BCC tho
Bitch, 3
Right when niggas thought it was over, right when they said I’m done
I focused on all my writings, now I’m right there at the cusp
Uh, feels good to be called great
All these bloggers depart, especially the ones that hate it
All the OG’s say I’m ready for the torch
Lunchin them piñatas, then I’m headin to the source
Missile you’re asking bout cash relationships
I say that ship’s sailed and to me it don’t exist
I wish a well, I wish a life
They say you only live once, this is twice
I had a Henny party down in Soho
50 bottles of the Henny bottles, I was so gone and so on
I dedicated my whole life to this rap shit
Lost a lot of friends but that’s past tense
Just a south side nigga tryina get it
West side murda with my white sacks fitted, hold on
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