On the Stretch & Bob Show
Lyrics
They looking for me to carry the baton, like carrying on a stanza
Wasn't really aiming, I happened to take a gander
Caught it & now they calling it casualties of the banter
I'm talking out the side of my neck, I'm all cancer
I'm Charles Lee Ray on the break looking for Santa's
Who would have thought a murder would be an extravaganza
Trying to move Eddie Caputo up on the mantle
And lead Andy out on the break to play the example
Talk about how to baton, that's the passing of the guard
Corner crowded with the God's like I'm passing the Quran
Passing through with the word and a car note for a scarf
I'm part Ives Saint Laurent and part panther
Gave 'em residue like base, lost steps
I heard beats and caught bodies, you caught breaths
I'm part Vera at Par Tech, part brownstones, part Jects
And nah, I'd never be part Nets
Grew up where shit less cautious, more Cassius
Know the corner store well, I could walk backwards
Where going o.t. on the starters and small factions
And throw the rock through the fort like Mark Jackson
This rap shit turned into HORSE and it's all practice
My dress code will get me fined, more blackness
Sixteens, I'm less Curry, More Westbrook
So stand thirty feet out the line is all ad-libs
And all the WCW's that you screenshot
Got the front door of my building like a Supreme drop
Treat me like the Lord, I double them like a restock
Strung 'em underground, now they looking for the chief rock
And really these ain't lines, its throwing diesel
Pedestal high enough to clothesline eagles
Sympathy aside, ya'll will go in the trunk
My bio is Riley Freeman meets Thelonious Monk
And now they call me old school, they say the same to Andre
Flow all keys and it's 88 like a Steinway
'Till they top five supported me like a Stranjay
And get a lil wilder to reach. I'm Deontay
It ain't hard to tell, cause it's nothing to tell
My rep did all the talking and it's a wonderful braille
And whether we talking pens or we get to talking limbs
We still talking how I'm a walking double XL
Twelve years of valedictorians under my belt
Let the plug know he lucky that I ain't jump on the scale
This is more or less battery acid on the Notes app
Looking for your fade, you following where the smokes at
Henny on the steering wheel playing with the Lord
Turned into gray bottoms on the stage at the awards
Just in case ya'll was lost, I'm the face in the Forbes
Ghostwriting is everything that they claimed that it was
I'm straight, haha
Gyeah
One time
Stretch & Bob Show
They looking for me to carry the baton, like carrying on a stanza
Wasn't really aiming, I happened to take a gander
Caught it & now they calling it casualties of the banter
I'm talking out the side of my neck, I'm all cancer
I'm Charles Lee Ray on the break looking for Santa's
Who would have thought a murder would be an extravaganza
Trying to move Eddie Caputo up on the mantle
And lead Andy out on the break to play the example
Talk about how to baton, that's the passing of the guard
Corner crowded with the God's like I'm passing the Quran
Passing through with the word and a car note for a scarf
I'm part Ives Saint Laurent and part panther
Gave 'em residue like base, lost steps
I heard beats and caught bodies, you caught breaths
I'm part Vera at Par Tech, part brownstones, part Jects
And nah, I'd never be part Nets
Grew up where shit less cautious, more Cassius
Know the corner store well, I could walk backwards
Where going o.t. on the starters and small factions
And throw the rock through the fort like Mark Jackson
This rap shit turned into HORSE and it's all practice
My dress code will get me fined, more blackness
Sixteens, I'm less Curry, More Westbrook
So stand thirty feet out the line is all ad-libs
And all the WCW's that you screenshot
Got the front door of my building like a Supreme drop
Treat me like the Lord, I double them like a restock
Strung 'em underground, now they looking for the chief rock
And really these ain't lines, its throwing diesel
Pedestal high enough to clothesline eagles
Sympathy aside, ya'll will go in the trunk
My bio is Riley Freeman meets Thelonious Monk
And now they call me old school, they say the same to Andre
Flow all keys and it's 88 like a Steinway
'Till they top five supported me like a Stranjay
And get a lil wilder to reach. I'm Deontay
It ain't hard to tell, cause it's nothing to tell
My rep did all the talking and it's a wonderful braille
And whether we talking pens or we get to talking limbs
We still talking how I'm a walking double XL
Twelve years of valedictorians under my belt
Let the plug know he lucky that I ain't jump on the scale
This is more or less battery acid on the Notes app
Looking for your fade, you following where the smokes at
Henny on the steering wheel playing with the Lord
Turned into gray bottoms on the stage at the awards
Just in case ya'll was lost, I'm the face in the Forbes
Ghostwriting is everything that they claimed that it was
I'm straight, haha
Gyeah
One time
Stretch & Bob Show
Writer(s): Gregory Taylor, Erik Stephens
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Freibank Musikverlags und vermarktungs GmbH, Royalty Network
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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