Bubblegum (feat. Zaramay)

Ey, Blunted boy
Zaramay, baby

'I'm saving packs inside a Nike box' (Nike shit)
Before we used to skate, now we brake in an Audi (brrum)
If it's too loud, make it easy (eh)
Find me hell with the Yankees' (pew)
Friends turn for money but I don't (no)
Trap artists talk about the streets but they don't know (okay)
I crown with my team and we explode it (clinic)
Playing dice with a couple of Dominicans, yeah (gang, gang)
I'm one who shoots for the family

In a black Benz smelling like marijuana (og)
You came out with nitro but the race is long
We don't understand fakes and it shows in your eyes (no cap)
You guys are pinky, lacking brains
Silent deals, I uncover and celebrate
She moves her ass like in a brothel (move it)
I don't sell my party tickets, I invest them, ey, ey
I keep it like Tego, deep inside the pot
But now in the tower, I light a bat for a hit (haha)
All those talking to me, it's not new
With the trap devil visor in a laundry room, let's go

I remember Mr. Magic, Flash, Grandmaster Caz
LL, raising hell, but that didn't last
Eric B. & Rakim were the shit to me
I flipped to see a Doug E. Fresh show, with Ricky D
And Red Alert was putting in work, with Chuck Chill
Had my homies on the hill getting ill, when shit was real
Went out to steal
Remember Raw (you know), with Daddy Kane?
When De La Soul was putting poth (rra)
Yeah

At 23 they said: You're wrong (huh)
At 24 I made the first attempt (what?)
At 25 I left the haters silent (yah)
And now at 26 I'm the valued rapper (! Rra!)
2014 cheating, stirring soup (soup)
If you want, we'll give you a hand to sell your clothes (huh)
Those guys want to treat me like 2Pac and Biggie
Because if I stay in the league, they'll never see the cup
We're in spaceships and we're not UFOs (huh)
I don't talk about Glocks, at most you'll have a Browning (prra)
And we're putting vegetables in the blunt and in the brownie
Making money in bed, baby, in the morning
Those rappers are screwed
Son, today I'll buy you diapers because Zara has them scared (huh)

And if you want to kill yourself, I always had the reason
Four rings on my fingers, super bowl size
I'm badass, living as we always dreamed
Before my name rings, I already had the gold hanging (huh)
You had to be smarter and get another lawyer
Because we opened the door and left the case closed, prr
The boss of the underworld, huh
Don't front to Babe Ruth, always ready for the swing, nigga (prra)
I take the ugly guy's woman and he sucks his fingers
There's a 4 and a half for your search warrant (rra)
The phone rings and vibrates for deals and a couple of chicks
I'm tired of pesos, I want foreign pounds
It moves and it's not a quarter pounder, my guy on the corner
I'm still busy, like the Indian in my fine task

Ey, Zaramay, baby
The boss of the underworld
Na-na-Nahuel the coach

I remember Mr. Magic, Flash, Grandmaster Caz
LL, raising hell, but that didn't last
Eric B. & Rakim were the shit to me
I flipped to see a Doug E. Fresh show, with Ricky D
And Red Alert was putting in work, with Chuck Chill
Had my homies on the hill getting ill, when shit was real
Went out to steal
Remember Raw, with Daddy Kane?
When De La Soul was putting poth