Lu-Tang - Citrus Winning lyrics

Fell asleep for like 8 months, and I woke up and it's 2017 Money so damn long man I'm winning just like I am Charlie Sheen Back when I couldn't flow Now I kinda can, eh I'm like a broken vacuum cleaner man My flow is kinda demeaning man Man everything I do is f**ing k**ing them Motherf**er I don't even know why I got a ceiling fan I got no ceilings fam, Wayne Money long, cut it man, their swag is so lame Who the f** invited me? No one really did I just came to the party with no f**ing friends Then I left My fault Money long, cut it I don't need a f**ing goal All my money long, who the f** invited me? I got to the party, then I leave Money long, I am just like Steve Nash because I'm dropping dimes Money long, man I do the crimes I don't do no time I've been k**ing these haters since like never I don't really have many haters, I'm just changing like the weather, f** it I don't even got a backpack I just go with the snapback Looking like a motherf**ing flapjack Give a f** if the rappers get the bap back Give a f** if I got the game on my Snapchat f**, I got that Snapcash Money long, cut it Man you better take a backpack Better take it back to the back on the top of the track I react real fast when these rappers are trash f** it up Man I've always been a runner up Never been first place in anything Everything I f**ing do is kinda trash, but it's all good Money long, cut it down man I don't really f** with anyone if they don't f** with Wu-Tang I'm just kidding, we're all love Money long, cut it down I had to read a book about fighting crimes and writing rhymes Back when I couldn't write, now my right is at the dime Man I transform like Optimus Prime at the drop of the dime Man these rappers, they just lies f** it Look, look Strictly off the dome, everything I do is Search me up on Google Chrome man Lu-tang.bandcamp.com has like four views in the past four years My money so damn f**ing trash I don't got a lot of cash I do this sh** in my f**ing sleep man R.I.P. to Johnny Cash And R.I.P. to Prince, David Bowie, and Craig Sager I k**ed the f**ing game man R.I.P. to Phife Dawg, I don't know how it's gonna be the same man A Tribe Called Quest is the best These rappers hungry like Budapest k**ed them haters man, put them in a chest X marks the spot, but you are pretty trash (aye) I don't even know why I'm doing this sh**, man it's pretty terrible (aye) I'm viciously k**ing them all, like Sid I don't know variables (aye) I don't even know why I pick up the mic, but I gotta keep going (aye) Close to overflowing man, like a f**ing dead fish Tangy boi, I'm the bestest (aye) k** the game, murder it, you should invest in it