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Lead Season Lyrics

from Lost Jewlry

"Lead Season" is track #8 on the album Lost Jewlry.
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"Lead Season" is track #8 on the album Lost Jewlry.
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[Intro:]
Yeah
Talk to me, man
Word up, man
Park that thing over there, man
Yeah, all that inside is marble, nigga
Take me over there and give me three White Owls, nigga
Word up, man
Yeah
Give me that shit, man
Let's go, nigga

[Verse 1:]
Park the Red Baron Beamer in the back of the cleaners
'Laxin' with a army, gun team of meta Yinas
And my blow like Floyd Landis
The chain I wear is skinny, baby, but the weight 80 grand
Jumpin' out of solid shit, rugby marathon
This the raw paragon, smoke with Agallah
Flow is designed for the Ghost
But I don't want if it's not biting the head off
Come see me slap a don
Great, take me and the connect with the crimies
Back when me and Flex kidnapped the 90s
I was king, call me Luther Lebron
Make a dream team appear, courtside seats in them Karmas
Known for my get-down and fly wear
It's usually my eyewear that make me buy up everything, bong
I'm an old Fila king with wings on
C-card night suit, sharp A, gold-faced Milan

[Hook:]
We gettin' bread in the building
Niggas getting' money, quick to spread in the building
Get lead in the building
Bosses don't bite they write checks
I want the nigga head in the building, get fed in the wilderness
We gettin' bread in the building
Niggas getting' money, quick to spread in the building
Get lead in the building
Bosses don't bite they write checks
I want the nigga head in the building, get fed in the wilderness

[Verse 2:]
Aye yo, full linen goose down to the Timbs
The gems is coke boy money, lay in the 700 Benz
Blowin' cheeba, dumpin' ashes
The class of last year, that'll throw your head through the glass
.45 all diamonds in it, grimies did it
Chinese killers'll jump out and give it
I will post in the New York Post
Blueberry Ghost, use steady motion when I'm aimin' my bitch
We young niggas who die hard, fly, ride hard
Soft-top, that means to push your head off
I be famous but my bodyguard Spanglish
It's all miscellaneous, ain't nobody tellin', it ain't a issue
Fakes get cakes with bombs in it
Coolin' in the velvet room, pullin' mad pussy, I'm born with it
Yeah, boo, the texture is cashmere
I'll beat your man up, drop 500 and blow and smash gears

[Hook]

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