Random Bass Beat
Random Bass Beat

Random Bass Beat Lyrics Meanings
by TREY CHOPS


Random Bass Beat Lyrics

Seems like all my songs about the same thing
Tryna spread the rap game like a loose brain
And I don't need no chain, fuck your lane, I'm a hold my shame
Independent, 'cause I'm really 'bout to wreck it
All these rappers hate me, 'cause they always come in second
It ain't a race, but we in first place
Holla at the Yarmulke, we sneakin' into States
Groove come smoother than a West Coast trick
Take this L, you don't make these hits
Nexus and that Gladiator, Synth Maker, I'll call you later
I've got 13 bitches on my wish list, that I've got to cater
I'm so sorry, there's no need for you Maury
Who that knocking at the door, could it be the Popo yo
Could it be my dreams and hustles, telling me to let 'em go
Sorry man, I'ma say no, ain't really 'bout to let that go
I'm really 'bout to book that show, fuck that hoe, spit my flow
Who that knocking (Who that knocking)
Who that knocking (Now that who that knocking)
Who that knocking (At the door)
Who that knocking (Up at my door)
Who that knocking (Who that knocking)
Who that knocking (Now that who that knocking)
Who that knocking (At the door)
Who that knocking (Up at my door)
Maybelline, I made a dream
These niggas hate me 'cause I'm out here tryna break the scene
Really ain't so easy, when you lack a team
It had to be, the last of me, you're gon' see
Maybe come back with a brand new taste
Post-punk rock got a great fan base
Jazz Funk phase all in your face
Hoes gon' love me, so they call your boy J
Man, so just listen, can we bargain, oh I beg your pardon
Three six oh deals, shoes got no heels
Artists out here, they straight starving
Not saying that we should get a handout
I'm the next Slim Shady, and this shit My Band now
My salsa great like gravy, these hoes out here tryna play me
Who that knocking at the door, could it be the Popo yo
Could it be my dreams and hustles, telling me to let 'em go
Sorry man, I'ma say no, ain't really 'bout to let that go
I'm really 'bout to book that show, fuck that hoe, spit my flow
Who that knocking (Who that knocking)
Who that knocking (Now that who that knocking)
Who that knocking (At the door)
Who that knocking (Up at my door)
Who that knocking (Who that knocking)
Who that knocking (Now that who that knocking)
Who that knocking (At the door)
Who that knocking (Up at my door)

Seems like all my songs about the same thing
Tryna spread the rap game like a loose brain
And I don't need no chain, fuck your lane, I'm a hold my shame
Independent, 'cause I'm really 'bout to wreck it
All these rappers hate me, 'cause they always come in second
It ain't a race, but we in first place
Holla at the Yarmulke, we sneakin' into States
Groove come smoother than a West Coast trick
Take this L, you don't make these hits
Nexus and that Gladiator, Synth Maker, I'll call you later
I've got 13 bitches on my wish list, that I've got to cater
I'm so sorry, there's no need for you Maury
Who that knocking at the door, could it be the Popo yo
Could it be my dreams and hustles, telling me to let 'em go
Sorry man, I'ma say no, ain't really 'bout to let that go
I'm really 'bout to book that show, fuck that hoe, spit my flow
Who that knocking (Who that knocking)
Who that knocking (Now that who that knocking)
Who that knocking (At the door)
Who that knocking (Up at my door)
Who that knocking (Who that knocking)
Who that knocking (Now that who that knocking)
Who that knocking (At the door)
Who that knocking (Up at my door)
Maybelline, I made a dream
These niggas hate me 'cause I'm out here tryna break the scene
Really ain't so easy, when you lack a team
It had to be, the last of me, you're gon' see
Maybe come back with a brand new taste
Post-punk rock got a great fan base
Jazz Funk phase all in your face
Hoes gon' love me, so they call your boy J
Man, so just listen, can we bargain, oh I beg your pardon
Three six oh deals, shoes got no heels
Artists out here, they straight starving
Not saying that we should get a handout
I'm the next Slim Shady, and this shit My Band now
My salsa great like gravy, these hoes out here tryna play me
Who that knocking at the door, could it be the Popo yo
Could it be my dreams and hustles, telling me to let 'em go
Sorry man, I'ma say no, ain't really 'bout to let that go
I'm really 'bout to book that show, fuck that hoe, spit my flow
Who that knocking (Who that knocking)
Who that knocking (Now that who that knocking)
Who that knocking (At the door)
Who that knocking (Up at my door)
Who that knocking (Who that knocking)
Who that knocking (Now that who that knocking)
Who that knocking (At the door)
Who that knocking (Up at my door)

Writer(s): Trey Charles
Copyright(s): Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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