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(feat. Lounge Mode) |
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(Intro: Cappadonna) |
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Season of Da' Vick... |
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(Cappadonna) |
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Aiyo, Tim and 'em, yeah Tim from Down South |
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Came to see what ya'll niggas, was talkin' about |
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So yo, stop all the ego trippin' |
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Tim put the clip inside the automatic, four-fifth it |
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The analog rapper start riftin' |
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Tim maneuvered up closer like Scott Pippen |
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Look at the analog rappers eyes, water start drippin' |
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Two cherry head niggas on the side bitchin' |
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Three chicks walked across the street switchin' |
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You heard the crank of a car key in the ignition |
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Don' came around the block with the deep dish in |
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This kid ran right in front of my whip, I stop dippin' |
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Runnin' fast like in a flick, he start slippin' |
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I ducked down slowly cuz I heard shorts rippin' (bong bong) |
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Big Tim and 'em from Down South was flippin' |
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(Interlude: Cappadonna) |
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Yo, yo, what the fuck is goin' on? |
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Season of Da' Vick, season of Da' Vick... |
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The streets is still watching... |
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(Cappadonna) |
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I'm a off the meat rack nigga, seat back nigga |
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You know my dog, too, he a heat pack nigga |
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Heat clap nigga, Wu-Tang Clan get the street back nigga |
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We came that liquor |
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Weed, digi and cars we just that particular |
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Put down ya darts it the extracurricular |
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Poppy Wardrobe King, I'm thinkin' bout stickin' ya |
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Wherever ya ho be at, I'mma stick my dick in her |
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Bust ya guns off if you love how I'm gettin' ya |
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Bump this shit in ya chromed out vehicular |
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Me and my force, we gettin' nothin' but redicular |
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Fuck Beans, none of ya'll niggas can get with us |
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(Lounge Mode) |
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Yo, I smoke weed, hit broads and like brains |
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Like guns, like M-1s and nice change |
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When you see me, respect my jeans, respect my name |
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Lounge Lo, respect the Lo, respect the bang |
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See me in the street with the heat, respect my pain |
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Park Hill cats in the back, respect my gang |
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And I was brought up to, respect my elders |
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Respect Miss Martha and respect Miss Felder |
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A little kid, Mr. Big, respect the gig |
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Respect my moms and respect my kids |
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Cuz if you don't, then I got to disrespect ya crib |
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And have me doin' hect', come and tech ya wig |
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Now when I touchdown and bust down that dutch to smoke |
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'Cross the street in the two-seat with platinum spokes |
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Bandana on my wrists, but I ain't claimin' no set |
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Got mad sets to lay without goin' for broke |
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I bust the heat, travel on the bust when I creep |
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Cop that yae shit and come down, I'm back on the street |
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Feelin' the vibe, fuckin' with Lounge, I'll kill for five |
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And if you'se a bad boy, I'm killin' ya pride |
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Two in the five, push like eight in ya side |
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Stuff ya body in the truck and take ya ass for a ride, nigga |
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(Outro: Cappadonna) |
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Yo, yo, fuck is goin' on? |
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Season of Da' Vick, season of Da' Vick... |
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Season of Da' Vick, season of Da' Vick... |
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Yeah, muthafucka... |
