Sam Lachow - 80 Bars Part 3 lyrics

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Sam Lachow - 80 Bars Part 3 lyrics

Hello again I'm hella hungry though dude, lets finish this sh** quick Alright lets start rapping So I typed a text to twenty girls in my cell But I forgot they could see it was sent to everyone else Not too good with technology you can obviously tell Got me leaning on a whole other spell Blame the four dollar wells Happy hour i'm happy now I got Jack and sour, a bag of powder and half an hour We're back and fouler Sam Lachowder always having a fit Getting ripped when he ain't working now my managers pissed Flowtastic I'm hoping I don't panic my bros they know Sammy The hoes think i'm romantic Broke rapper slow jazz i'm beat them up But my fans hoping soon i'ma speed it up Careful buddy you pay for p**y I pay for nothing I pay for product you pay the piper I pay for profit See I make something out of nothing you dumb dumb A laptop trumpet then a drum a rumpababumbumbum Bum, down for my people better keep my tab open Another round of tequila, from the ground, til' they need a lick of brown, green roofie, you prefer to use a needle, I prefer to use a rubber For the roller state, you prefer to use a bumper I'ma bang her, I'ma thump her, I'ma bang her, I'ma hump her I'm a hell of a mess, I send regrettable texts, she tell the address, I'll probably have regrettable s** See I just saw the little homies at the park, looking for some shelter from the rain, it's getting dark See they not hiding from police cos now it's legal in these streets, so they just trying to find a place where they can spark And now i'm smiling, reminiscing bout' the start, looking for a spot to blow a blunt, who's got the car? See this was back before me and my homies had apartments, hit the Taco Bell on 10th, i'm f**ing starving I was in the Caddie blowing fatties, with my hands in the air, skinny cool little stoner, I'll find a bum on the corner, I'll give him 30 bucks to get the cheapest sh** in the store, the liquor's just for the b**hes and this is all I'll afford Rapper scholar used to bring the Henney Black to the fun, back when (?) bomb-sack lunch Now I'm looking at these kids and all they have is their crew, I can't judge ya I was just like you But now I hit the gas-pedal, the last letter of the alphabet double-O M, zoom past all the last place haters, burst bubbles, earn paper, burn vapor (when will you learn hater) I don't miss you, remember? You miss me I'm lying to ladies, tell em "I'm busy" and 6"2, on Tinder Now listen, Jennifer. I'm about to take a super dab, hopped out the shower, to the party in an Uber-Cab You play checkers homie, we play chess. I'm feeling old cos I used to masturbate to VHS. I'm drinking beer, eating pop rocks, clear of the cop-cops. Seattle like a Subaru, Hippie like a Hula-Hoop Sugar-coated candy, b**h I ain't sweet I'm Sammy Sour Huckleberry. I'm a blickety-boss and you're a clickety-cluck, that's your lickety-loss, don't give a flickety-f** But, I could be that good guy in your life, but I'm a guy and I might, get up and fly in the night. But, she kinda cool and if she got cool joints, I might, talk to her in my Ja Rule voice I could feed the p**y up, eat the p**y up, beat it blue-black, Back to back episodes of Orange Is The New Black Always a**umed you'd be a one done thing, it's hella crazy how long one month seems and now I'm rhyming bout ya We're both damaged, you started out as a fan and I started out as the man, and we started out with some baggage, take you out to Bumpers, you have a hell of a weekend, some vodka in an Aquafina bottle and sneak in I got a lot of girlfriends and sh**, but if they hear this, I'll never hear the end of it But baby we could have could have a future even though we got some history, I'ma f** you like I hate you, if you lick me like you miss me uh You see the fans follow, you see the girls swallow, I did it without ever rhyming; bottle with model or college with knowledge or Bacardi with party At least I hope not, you won't find those partner Teach game to the rappers and backpackers, show 'em how to move in a room full of crack-addicts uh Well I don't want to let my manager down, sh**, of course I want my fam to be proud I kinda, kinda, kinda, kinda like the way the chips are landing right now, my fans they know the real Sam Lachow, uh At this point my only chance to be better is to, take off the beer goggles, if I get to sleep ever easy money, cheap cheddar, I peaked at Part 2, or is there any hope that Part 3 will be better uh Ha ha ha ha 80 Bars Part 3