Reg Mason - VALHALLA. lyrics

*Intro* I got what you need I'll fall the f** to sleep *Verse* 1,2,3 please stay away from me I ain't got no other motherf**ing pure realities 2,3,4 yeah its been ratchet galore We as creepy as the children that I'm sampling you who*e I'm a motherf**ing n***a from the 908 It ain't that bad but these coppers constantly running my license plates Heaven on Earth with a fence for a gate On a couch where I lay In four day, "CARRY" hit 4K Making beats, doce n***as need old bay This is me forte Yes, I'm still lacking the tour dates Bad scholar, rad saga Came up in a Valhalla Lit prophecy notes She so lethal So good to me, it should be illegal p**y balance me out like seesaw Back f**ed up, looking like Igor Running round the city with a blade in my G-Shock See cops, then a n***a gotta take a detour Au revoir,au revoir Sunny yet pulling out bread like I'm packing a toaster Covert, dragging her overseas Europe, and up in them ovaries Pull the ba** back, y-3 tag on a truck cap Hit my wifey with the "we just f**ed" dap Why bust back? I'll return all my love on one track The f** is wrong with you I done heard a lot about your a** remaining mute About spotlights, about shooters I'm a motherf**ing powerhouse n***a, we could do this We is brutal, not Brutus Juggernauts, not Judas n***a, went on your page barely saw any music Threatened because we like that Acting like you ain't have this sh** on a gold platter, fight back Yeah, my n***as the key They way you treat all your boys, they ain't family And motherf**ers gotta act like we all on the same level He better than me AND you Now wet us I got a vendetta that's bigger than berettas And any n***a that's being pa**ive can sure get it Shooters? n***a, who you kidding You be in the hood, grinning. You the next Diggy Simmons Busy running round the world Trying to see where you been in Man, I swear to God I ain't tough but I'm ready Got my 'talians Shouts to Mr. Celitti These bars make your upper back shift into confetti And shouts to your dad he's the real one 150% percent sure I got my own son Open up the orange bottles until the pills gone n***as gonna try and murk us like we the pilgrims Chill son, I got my studio near the bathroom sh**ting on folks and then I gotta go vacuum s**ed out my soul, them selfies you got it bad news All your raps is Sade, the sweetest taboo Damage, ya see n***a, would you believe Cop a n***a tampons if he tamper with me f** you, you ain't in no upper league Little b**h boy. Invert W-V