Mickey Factz - Double XL lyrics

[Intro] [Verse 1: Curren$y] And I never came down from the last time But that don't mean nothing, n***as still climbing b**hes popping bottles and they sipping pink diamonds I took a break from the game and I seen these n***as clowning The blogs wouldn't be the same if you took Spitta out it Props to the ones who instrumentally getting me popping Balling without first learning the fundamentals, forget about it Tryna 360 up the middle, you ain't even learn to dribble Twiddling my thumbs smoking lime Watching hamster a** rappers running wheels going nowhere with their rhymes Stuck, Glenn Robinson big dog bus, socks up, top down, k**ing squares, riding around Coolest n***a in yo city, even when I'm not in town Smoking like I signed for 50 million and I'm underground Yeah, uh Smoking like I signed for 50 million still underground [Verse 2: J-Lie] And who we are, flow away above all, see If I didn't rap I still look like a star, just admit, you know You can spot me from afar, no big diamond chain that was so old for Just a mention going up, it's nothing that I fire Put the ladies sleeping over, slumber parties every night Get your flights from … sending me all over Bring me to the club, cause all the b**hes like What other rapper you know can call from Dakota, anger ...and call from a favor And Brooklyn and Queens cause they got I'm a king Avoiding tattoos, ...take the music … My kicks so is fresh no scuffs from the ground, this n***a's too fly, can't get scuffs from the clouds This ain't even my city but sh** might as well, that's why me and spitta sold out ATL [Verse 3: Mickey Factz] Jet setter, I've been iller, causing vendettas with all of you Ben Stillers These little f**ers hate my endeavors, time for men sweaters under chinchillas Trend setter, kick k**er my feet wear caskets Fresh to d**h and rare gla**es, the bomb bottles, rose petals and Ford models Who all follow my Twitter and still sword swallow DM me, got him in the frenzy, it's all about the benjies I'm feeling like the kembe, block haters stop player I'm so clean My pockets love the earth baby they go green Sitting back in that cold thing, wanna rock the mic but she don't sing Messing with the flow king, kiss the gold ring, pucker up bu*tercup, or knuckle up to these punch lines that uppercut [Verse 4: Kendrick Lamar] Chillin in my teepee, no indian but he be The realest sh** I must admit I'm baskin in my feces My style is harder, yours is watered down they call it fiji The bible or my CD, both of them were said to be the Formula to live your life, or coping with the ills No time to play kid, I think you needs to chill House party with k**ers, pray for Italy villas Where accents think it's Buffy and chandeliers hang from ceilings I'm dreaming, I'm scheming to be major Compose art like a Mozart, the sequel to Amadeus, today is The day I see the sun, ignoring all the rain The fat lady has sung, octaves as high as planes Paper bout the forest tree, acres of that THC I don't smoke but homies do, find the cloud and have a seat And I wonder how ... live to see 80 I just wanna see Mercedes give me head in Mercedes