K.A.A.N. - Oochie Wally RMX lyrics

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K.A.A.N. - Oochie Wally RMX lyrics

[Verse 1: K.A.A.N.] Yeah yeah, let's do it Lawd, knowledge, n***a Look, man these mothaf**as mad I, I can really feel it Never business always personal, that's why you in your feelings Once a ceiling, n***a I surpa**ed that a year ago Re-corded in a basement while you was with a basic b**h Different states, but safe to say I'm moving on the greatest sh** Sign my commentary, n***a sound like Heather B See you disagree, so s** my D like you Heather Hunter 1,2,3,4,5 grams in my ronta [?] A leaf rolled it up for me, no I don't need company Smoking by myself, but comfortably, I'm feeling lovely I'm Elroy Jetson high, this world is under me My feet up with both eyes wide if they should come for me A hundred forty five pound tyrant to a troglodyte Keep my name up out your name, you'll bite off more than you can chew These sneaky greedy heathens, let me bless you like you say "Achoo", I just went super saiyan, no Goku, hadouken with haikus I swiftly move my IQ, large rappers singing like Elder Busche Falsifying finances, facetiously, down play the losses Off the bars alone I get more respect than the [?] Lucid dream, I'm living like an Allan Watts dissertation Acid mixed with iowaska, now i see the Holy Father Lights is getting dimmer, conversation darker watch me sparker Parking eagle to the side, this heat's a necessary crime Pacino in the mirror, reenact it , no attachments to my life That I can't even 30 seconds flat, imagine that For the sake of time, this motion picture has been edited Like, where'd you get your talents, Jehovah's where I credit it, but I ain't talking Sean Carter, gold shield, strong armor, clean conscious, good karma, shine like the Beligian rapper Praise the lord like Chance The Rapper, everyones a k**er How the f** do y'all believe these rappers Most of y'all are entertainers, shucking jobs, don't make a dime These Sanbores are entertaining Yes sir Masa, I'm sure is happy Now tap dance to a mill and tell me how that feel There ain't no hands inside my pockets, dividends devote directly, independence is intelligence, don't you ever forget it You're favorite rapper is f**ed, stressed, living in debt Old quarter bought the n***as, I don't give them respect A silver chain dipped in gold, with the god on their neck I'm just a trail across suburban, now we used to live in D-ron My pockets flat, no spare around My anchors I still hold it down My photo finish photosynthesize, I call maturation Rappers feel they self too much, it's like they masturbating I sterilize them, now they as stagnant as I The young Popeye, call a doctor, would I [?] Propose the proclamation, proceed to practice my teachings of feedings, I feed them life, your alternative isn't nice My advice is that you f**ing practice, I'm practically post-traumatic, impossibly pa**ive impartial, my stance is my prowess, the vantage [?] My favorite point is to vanquish, no chance I could be defeated Yes dead presents ain't the key to being icon I shift off the leat, then shoot my shot like an icon The f** out of my way hoe, I'm definitely manic I smoke three in a row, the dopest way that I could manage I'm not a practical thinker, I'll never ration my reason If common sense ain't evolved, then f** it bro i don't need it That's no common dependents, like wearing a n***a's pendent And driving a car that's rented to profit off an image These rappers using the internet to cover up their tenements The end is imminent, living limitless, I just finished it Woah