Mathematics - OJ Da Juiceman Paroles , lyrics

Paroles de Mathematics de OJ Da Juiceman

Mathematics est une chanson de OJ Da Juiceman pour laquelle les lyrics ont été ajoutés en janvier 2014.

Les paroles de Mathematics ont fait l'objet d'une relecture, cependant, il est possible qu'il y ait encore des fautes. N'hésitez pas à me prévenir par mail.

Le clip vidéo de Mathematics est disponible ci-dessous.


[Refrain]
In the trap, back at it
All in know is mathematics
Man that clean fish scale
Chicken wings straight out the wrapper
2008, Juiceman turned into a rapper
Coming down the road with them bricks in a capper
Flyin down the criss and my daughter pamper
Zone 6, white head, east Atlanta
Geeked up, help with the bags, nigga you can call me Santa
Small fried nigga, you'll never be on my level

Hater get on my level, bricks come in on schedule
Dancing with the devil ever since I was in Pampers
Georgia Baptist born but I was raised in East Atlanta
Zone 6 nigga, still trappin with them blammers
Out here servin their Diana, got keys just like pianos
In the kitchen cookin hammer, make a hater turn the channel
Mississippi mud but my name at David Banner
In it for a bag, you can keep the fame and glamour
Run bricks like Deon Saunders
My name ain't left the slammer
32 ENT and the feds wanna ban us
Born in the trap but they just don't understand us
Grew up with the boys but half on jealous

[Refrain]
In the trap, back at it
All in know is mathematics
Man that clean fish scale
Chicken wings straight out the wrapper
2008, Juiceman turned into a rapper
Coming down the road with them bricks in a capper
Flyin down the criss and my daughter pamper
Zone 6, white head, east Atlanta
Geeked up, help with the bags, nigga you can call me Santa
Small fried nigga, you'll never be on my level

Swear I'm team rich, we're not cookin fish
Catch me in the kitchen, nigga I can serve a dish
Plug turned to raw, Chris Paul I assist
Slam like Blake, damn near broke my wrist
Posted in the trap, in the yard there's a fish
Say I got it funk rap, nah nigga it were bricks
Cus Jay love the rocks and the nigga love to sniff
Smoking up the gas, like to sip, we call it piff
Feelin like Tony, got my name on the blim
Shout out to Memphis, got Young Juiceman feel like pimps
Caught me slippin once, got Young Juiceman with a limp
100 rack dom, 20 bands for the rims

[Refrain]
In the trap, back at it
All in know is mathematics
Man that clean fish scale
Chicken wings straight out the wrapper
2008, Juiceman turned into a rapper
Coming down the road with them bricks in a capper
Flyin down the criss and my daughter pamper
Zone 6, white head, east Atlanta
Geeked up, help with the bags, nigga you can call me Santa
Small fried nigga, you'll never be on my level

Shouts out to my baby, Chloe
Yeah, that's my homie
Nigga, run up on it
His family be lonely
I'm a act a donkey
Banana with the monkey
In a stolen car but I'm ridin with a jacket
Niggas on like the hockey,
With some military functions
Going up bout mine, I ain't dyin bout no fuck shit
Grab the sniper and say fuck it
Go in, steal a bucket
Then go extend the band, in and out that fuck shit
These choppas you can't duck it
You better not try to twerk it
You ain't Ussain Bolt so you better not buggy
I'mma keep it real, I'm that nigga not to fuck wit
Punch yo head like a brick or yo body, get it busted

[Refrain]
In the trap, back at it
All in know is mathematics
Man that clean fish scale
Chicken wings straight out the wrapper
2008, Juiceman turned into a rapper
Coming down the road with them bricks in a capper
Flyin down the criss and my daughter pamper
Zone 6, white head, east Atlanta
Geeked up, help with the bags, nigga you can call me Santa
Small fried nigga, you'll never be on my level


Note : 1 étoile2 étoiles3 étoiles4 étoiles5 étoiles
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