Frank - LAX lyrics

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Frank - LAX lyrics

[Intro: Dom] Yeah (Mike and Keys) Ayy [Verse 1: Dom] Writing every day for seven years It was hard but fu*k it Still worth it because it led us here Two of everything like Noah's Ark I’m the 21st century Mozart and you'll get blown apart I don't like many rappers really They start acting silly Ask ya new b*tch, man she gotta feel me I’ve been framed by the dirty opps They been running with our style for years, I'm here to take my spot While they perpetrate gangsta I'll be counting 20 G's in Chase with the banker Kid this Other People's Money When I come out if it's cloudy, I'm gon' make that sh*t sunny I love a good, hard rap song No autotune, nobody crying all on the microphone If you need a ghostwriter, you are not hot She finna fly to LAX just to give me top Sitting on Highland up at Fat Sal’s I’m the golden child mixed with Kevin Liles Down for everything but backing down Call me Ron Artest how I move the crowd He a s*ut, he a ho, he a freak Got a different look every day of the week See the thing about me is I'm serious My dream was to fill a shoebox with all benjamins [Verse 2: Frank] I could never sell my piece, I ain’t no feat Solidified in the city 'cause of old beef Coming live from the streets on these soul beats Pockets used to be on E, now it's OD Ugh, I thank God I'm a boss I used to walk then I spent a car on the cross Aaliyah with these bags ’cause I'm back and I'm forth Other People Money on track to the Forbes (Other People's Money) [Verse 3: Dom] The truth you're now hearing and I'm God-fearing I be power steering in something wicked Careful on depreciating assets If it's not an AMG, they can send it back Big Daddy Kane said don't half step I'ma rep the set 'til my last breath Are you gon' fold when it's crunch time? Did you have on Chuck Taylors in the lunch line Or the new Ken Griffeys if I switched up I think radio should pick us up It's the, fitted-wearing, nothing less than McLaren If we talking foreign, those keep girls staring Uh, you know I be abusing 'em The best out right now over drums This real ni**a sh*t don't got a off bu*ton You looking good baby take off something Send it through the mail, watch it triple sales White tuxedo, socks pastel I'm the one like Booker for the Suns Shorty had low self-esteem, I coached her up Told her she don't need likes, we know what's up I know that pussy is fire, a molotov co*ktails, talking over money trails Hope our kids see college, grow up, run for mayor [Outro: Dom] Gotta keep rolling through the sunshine But I can't keep ducking from the one-time If the beats keep coming, I'ma get mine Everything I wanted in my lifetime Gotta keep rolling through the sunshine But I can't keep ducking from the one-time If the beats keep coming, I'ma get mine Everything I wanted in my lifetime (Mike and Keys)