Pump Pump

Grooving
Grooving
Just being fucking creative, I’m chasing the rhythm daily
I’m blanking when Ilajide hit record up in the basement
Bank 'em or get a statement as I’m hopping in a spaceship
While you fighting over Wraiths, I’ma go deeper into space
Strolling through the building but the muthafuckin torches, nigga
Oh you don’t know? We the muthafucking Forces nigga
Point me to the checks, finesse shit, jet off
Killed her after busting my temple against the stone wall
Picked up all the bricks, started building my own road
Now the people feel me from Detroit across the whole globe
To the bone, my niggas say I should gloat more
I’m your mama favorite rapper and she give me throat woah
How is that for jokes? Laugh now, cry later
Once you peel the onion back, see the lines have layers
Niggas motivated, keep hating hating
Motivated, keep hating hating
And pump up, up up, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga
Pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga
Pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga
Tell me who got the juice
See no 2Pac in you, you just who poppin fool
Me I be popping fools, that be mad evident
Got all the hoes but my count ain’t reflecting it
They be detecting it, only after sexing it
Maybe 'cause the kind of dick I give 'em be telling shit like
Gotta keep digging deeper
My finances take a chance, I gotta see where the gold
I mean see where this goes, uh oh, my
She know I ain’t about it but my talent 'bout it 'bout it
flow riding riding, fa sho
I’m 'bout my chicken like an episode of Chowder, aye yo
Money I’m like baby powder
dream about it like
, engineer with the
Oh yea, microphone and speakers nigga
Juice nigga
Pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga
Pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga
Who got the juice facing
450 splash, losing my mask in rotation
Fuck it mask off, the champion still retain
The lyrical in ya lane, I’m off in the terrain
You couldn’t handle my pedigree, ready to play the game
It’s a war inside of my brain, feeling so out of place
Uh, I’m always detrimental even though I’m trapped inside of a trap instrumental
In the middle of playing
Bucky Barnes cleaning off the lens of my rifle in the middle of a winter storm
The Winter Soldier fold a rapper in the snow with the metal arm
Level I’m on you couldn’t see with the rinnegan
Defending my thoughts or being killed by the law
Clear Soul the Black Order and Nov Ebony Maw
Middle finger to the law
They still be killing us off and I can’t resist
Juice nigga
Pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga
Pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga
Eating the beat up, my hunger Ethiopian
could’ve went commercial ha
Head of the times, catch your latest infomercials ha
this, it came from the heart
I love my ribs,
The style’s
should’ve went and built you an ark
Make you wonder like the breaking up of Little Brother
Is you niggas listening or should we boost up the treble
Ear drum like Swae Lee to
Randy Savage snap into Slim Jimmies in the 1980s
new Pirelli’s
Revolutions, PP7s deadly, hope you niggas ready
Juice nigga
Pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga
Pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, jump up
Up, pump pump, nigga tell me who got the juice nigga