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Joogin' (Prod​.​Blair)

by T.Rabb

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lyrics

This that body tossed off a roof.
You like the tips on shoe laces dog you out the loop.
Alotta niggas ran from it shxt they often do.
Say they offing truth. I just offer truth y'all awfully rude.
And I aint ask for the game it was handed too.
I po a 4, watch for the 5 and pray my travels true.
And I'm tired of these hoes in blazers like turbo from breaking.
Walter breaking bad. Like a bankrupt, doctor I'm praying for patience.
As I'm riding my chrome, and I'm working my wheels.
Told my niggas it's time for the push like we biking up hill.
Live strong armstrong. On my bracelet you yellow..
Plus you sugar, but word to the hill I feel like romelo.
I'm my brothers keeper. Pray he don't meet the reaper.
My nigga boxed in the can I'ma wyld out til they realease em.
A lot den changed. lot of niggas den lost it. Playing like they 76, and they thought they'd beat Boston
Damn I feel annointed. Dare the devil to ever see.
It feel like I'm sparring the last call at 7 seas.
I'm saving for the vette with dare devil leather seats.
I'm throwing alpha soup up letters read rip.
It's like you slappin funk flex, bombs on yo fade.
When you amongst the renegades you'll see lines shutter shades. gators snapping no Everglades.
If Ks blow you'll have no face.
And 1 logo, off the head slick. My Soul glow.

I'm jumping off the stage, melee in the crowd. Oh you never metta elbows in the house. I guess you think you Hardin. But This a celebration. That's how it hits when my musics in rotation.

I'm Joogin'
I'm Joogin'

Don't ask for a verse from trabb he ruining features like nip tuck.
If you towned down throw that N up. My girl a pen up.
Yo girl get pent up. Like block off the glass, then get tossed out like jazz.
Hit downlow ostertaged.
My niggas was at the party ciroc'n,
tried to pass that orange to the 5 like stockon.
Told them to leave eM alone. I don't indulge in those toxins.
Then like the mountains in Utah got back to rocking. Yo stop it.
you don't really wanna get it poppin, you wylin,
I'm cleaning clocks like I'm detailing watches. So watch it,
with Ufc hands that you dont wanna see of course,
and I'm showing knees like Cheyenne pe shorts.
We geroge lucus we came to make a scene.
We baring out. This like the power cling, got em slitting they wrist.
You know that emo thing.
Circle of excellence we like the created team.

(Chorus)

My tracks slap like truck slaps,
ran laps in my suede max.
Flow spark like 4 flats.
Flow get me blue like gym mats.
Ratchet hoe on my wood tip. I smashed her and her Big sis, plus Lil sis, no kiss,
now thats what i call a trae flip.
Bloop
They still hit me up.
Bloop.
Naw I can't pick you up.
I'm on the road to progess and thumbs up don't get picked up.
So thumbs down. They give my music hands up. Two thumbs up.
PF changs 5 stars,
tent city hot bars.
Who is going harder?
Somebody please let me know.
I feel like I'm on fire, I musta hit 3 shots ina row.
Oh my god it's overflow. I'm who they poured the oil on.
You better turn yall cameras on, for I blackout you'll need candles home.
Oh lord where did the commas go. These bars are going on and on.
Just long enough to Noose your self. Or bungee flair. The shxts unfair.
Kobe to Jordan why would you compare?
I was in heaven when I wrote this hear.
Always a problem when I link with Blair. He threw the cup I ran up the stairs

(Chorus)

credits

released July 13, 2012
KillOff Records, Written by T.Rabb, Produced by Blair

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T.Rabb North Las Vegas

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