Retch - Newport Music lyrics

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Retch - Newport Music lyrics

[Production by LeKen Taylor] [Intro] Yeah You have now tuned into the Lavender Love Section Newports and bad b**hes, cold drinks and chicken wings Watermelon seeds and b**hes with no weaves Before I go in, let me roll up my sleeves Yeah Donald Love, baby [Verse 1: Sha Hef] True! Back on the block, no crack in my sock, just dope and my God And your b**h in my car, she back on my dick, she know who we are So come float with a star, a consolation I'm the sh**, no constipation Back to the crib for some consommation Pluck her then f** her, no conversation I'm just saying, ain't no debating my greatness, these n***as is basic And I'm wasted, writing this rap and cap in the back of a spaceship Just face it Pour a little out for the ones that never made it And shout out to the hoes that I f**ed, but never dated Even in HD, I look hella faded Feeling hella jaded, OG got me feeling elevated Got me all sedated, n***a wants to fight cause his b**h got me on her playlist We ain't gotta say sh** We come back to the trap with the straps and my n***as just spray sh** Got 50 Xan's in that party pack Feeling like I had a heart attack I got 50 b**hes wanting autographs I got 50 blunts, I'm smoking all of that That's all I know: good weed, s**, money, and hoes Hit the booth and I spit plenty of flows Check my rap sheet, I flip plenty of O's Oh! [Hook: Retch] (x2) I'm what you get when you mix c**a and a triple beam If it ain't the Feds, I'm falling victim to this nicotine Selling d**, doing d** Busting s**ies in the club Like motherf** this rap sh** I grew up in that trap, b**h [Verse 2: Da$h] Deep inhales, drunk texting a couple hoes Replies come by the time I exhale, saying it's a go sh**, fa sho, after I drop these flows, I'll probably call you Enjoyed the p**y but love my money, f** what you thought, boo Got use to getting use to timezone changes Joe Namath, JET planing For the green, you ain't paying, you ain't sh** What I'm claiming? H's clique Don't make dollars, ain't no sense If your b**h know me, s** my dick, I'm coming up, she think I'm rich Way I'm living got my peers with a certain hate Get acquainted with your maker, ever try to touch my plate Borderline immortals, b**h from Haiti smoking in my place Told her roll her own, cause the gods only chief to the face Putting you on game, G-coded, lames don't understand it Got faded and made my lane just like I f**ing planned it Manic expression, getting high keep me out of depression Teaching every time I speak and see money the lesson [Hook] [Verse 3: Retch] Minute Maid in that Cognac, two days in that same Lo n***as ask where the hoes at, I just act like I ain't know n***a, we from the same hood, all f** with them same hoes His b**h f** her man, we all know how that dame goes Came up on Park Street, swear a young n***a slang O's Champ hoodie and it cover my face, n***a just out trying to stay low But the Feds on my a**, while they hara**, every time I see them, I be hoping they crash Ejected from the seat and fly through the gla**, his kids have to watch as they go under gra** Six feet, dig deep, we laugh, his b**h weep R-I-P to that pipsqueak, hang a f**ing cop by his pig feet f** jail, I ain't going back cause I'm too fly, think orange whack I got mad hoes, I love blowing thrax and I'm in the room, I got the loudest pack And I really can't let none of that go Black and from the hood with some foreign a** hoes So I'm all up in the rearview when I'm peeping for the motherf**ing Peoples n***a, I ain't trynna see 'em like [Hook]