Thierry Demers - Zee Me Later lyrics

ZEE ME LATER F. I-BLAST To think, immigrants move here to serve pizza... Put a brick on a credit card - work visa Money grow on trees son, it's purp fever Strippers, sniffers. everyone burn cheeba Still puffin' when the piff on drought It ain't what you think when they say that kush sold out Son, i gotta eat... if i ain't makin' stacks, layin' back Lasertag, take the cash, paperbag, Reagan mask Stainless gat, chrome - grey and black Raiders cap Kool G scar, this blade could change the face of rap If i get got, what kind of presidential fate is that? My Jays fade to black, fiends got Roc Nation hats There's buyers on the clock, suppliers on the top Little soldiers on the corners, those sirens are the cops If you ridin' in a drop, they might fire at your top sh**, Quebec could seperate the way they dyin' for the Bloc(k) You hear me now? guaranteed you gon Zee Me Later You feel my style then you rush back, rush back Girls break their necks to clutch the fabric (ha!) You wonder why i'm still in love with this rap sh**? it's me, 'Os - 613 and ya dunno The team roll like Chi-Ali when the funds low East coast beasts, we turn beef into blood soaked Sheets, we at peace only off of that blunt smoke Son's bright, must be evolved sunlight Cla** of '98, we money farm alumni You a tough guy, runnin' to one time To talk and somebody saw? body parts wind up in Mumbai Yeah I see you pushin' work out that Best Western And you zee me pullin' birds like a jet engine Burbs to the West End, we live from the butcher shop Mixtapes are 2 for 5 when the kush get chopped What's really good, what really pop? Let's get it crackin' my people - achilles lock Rather fight than run, spiteful ba*tard If I bite my tongue it's to stifle laughter Body of a warrior, mind of a madman Manual dexterity, fingers designed to bag grams Blowin' on hashplant crossbred with Afghan Name gettin' big though it's forcefed by rap fans The last man standin', I-Blast is a cracked atom Leavin' holes in your terrain as vast as the Grand Canyon Haters want my cash, they mad and they can't stand him And these cops on my a**, I laugh as they can't grab him All you mans scrappin, n***as'll backhand 'em I ain't a k**er but still i'm quicker to clap at 'em n***as know my name in the hood for gettin' funds Sellin' guns, dealing c**aine in the hood You can catch me on the 401 with a couple pounds of piff A down-a** b**h and a loaded gun Not to mention the chain got some stocky links And the pendant lookin' somethin like a hockey rink