Thelonious Martin - Black Acura lyrics

[Produced by Thelonious Martin] [Verse 1: Mibbs] Show out for the girls and get your a** whipped On some 8th grade, right front of the cla** sh** You gon' try to test me but I'mma pa** it I'm a motherf**in' genius and you in some bad sh** Step 'round a corner with my crewneck on Hammer can't touch me, man I'm too hands on I don't know you man, we ain't never been to school together We ain't ever shared weed, b**hes, or ate food, never! They say money never sleeps, gotta have two hustles Since I'm bagging duffels, I got ashy knuckles Carry 'em to the bank, now I got big muscles Man I do my thing, I got fans in Brussels [Hook] Y'all think I made it, I'm just getting started Man I'm just saying, that sh** retarded Y'all think I made it, I'm just getting started Man I'm just saying, y'all sh** retarded [Verse 2: Like (and Mibbs)] (I just got excited, man I almost farted That's too much information, my bad, I'm sorry We got syndication, our sh** go hardest) And that's why she choose and that's why you lose, my n***a you garbage Not to be harsh but f** it, your b**hes look parched and busted And I bet that you be carpet munching, that sh** we spark be skunking That Pepé Le Pew and you know we be repping the crew Pac Div, you second to who? Maaaaan, ain't nobody be checking for you Must we remind again, must you rewind again I'm off three Heinekens, and this sh** is effortless too I done stepped on your shoes and spit in your face Disrespected yo b**h in your place You still want a autograph? Gimme a break, I'm sick and disgraced These n***as is fake, b**hes is fake, man sh** is just fake I just stay to myself, I don't get in the way Got bread to get, got head to get, rap etiquette, don't edit this Need evidence, been repping it, ever since... b**h! [Hook] [Verse 3: BeYoung] We overfaded in the function and we getting started sh**, a n***a blew three blunts 'fore we finished parking That OG make a nerd broad get retarded A pretty b**h's dream, a freaky b**h's Mr. Marcus Popping up for that revenue, standing tall like I'm 7'2" You ain't cut from that same cloth, hell nah we ain't gettin' no checks with you No you can't get no checks with me, get these n***as from next to me Backstage drinking up the Yac, n***a you ain't get no text from me sh** pull up, I can pump your brakes, that's dopeboy sh** we pumping base Flex so hard my muscles ache, stack that bread then tuck the safe If it's game day, I quarterback, that's on me, them boys is back All I know is that fly sh**, got pimp game on my boarding pa** [Bridge: Raven Sorvino] f** what you talking 'bout, I be making G's Posted up in the parking lot, dangling my keys f** what you talking 'bout, I was overseas Posted up, Polo down, catch me dangling my keys [Verse 4: Mac Miller] If you try, you'll find I'm rhyming in some Iversons In the ocean, riding dolphins, grab 'em by the fin Uh, yea b**h I'm ten feet tall Bunch of hoes playing with my beach balls The money in the way, I don't see y'all Finally making paper legal b**h I'm flyer than a seagull Fresh as f**, that's by default I hit Schoolboy Q to borrow bucket hats Why you talking little homie, go and run a lap f** that sh**, I been ether Have these b**hes running like a gym teacher So you can go and do a hundred drills Twenty years old with a couple mill It's nothing, I'mma go for more Just became a wizard, b**h I'm Okafor Same sh** you been told before These some raps out the f**ing baking soda drawer Yea I spit that crack b**h Mac Div