Ms. Joyce

Текст песни Smino - Ms. Joyce

I'm tryna take my shit to another level, man
I'm tryna learn how to make these hits, man

Brain tangled like my chain, chain with my mama name
Pain bubble on my brain, man, this shit don't feel the same
Same hoes from the ninth grade tryna give me nicotine
In her scalp like Mane 'n Tame, old Impala, pumpkin frame
I'm a creature, I'm a Smiture, I could teach you, still'll beat you
Facial features get me freakas, I get low, sometimes, I be up
All depends like old shit, all that old shit that you bring up
Two white coupes, the Olsen Twins, mama, oh my God, there go that man

Oh-oh, and I'm feelin' her pheromones
I'm a king, she wanna make the pharaoh moan
Not now, I'm in my zone (but you can hop in my ride)
New coupe when you see me, same color tortellini
Pockets used to be bulimic, huh, you wouldn't believe it (nah)
Some days, wanna be like Jesus (oh), other days, Young Jeezy (no)
To the bag, I pledge allegiance, president just got impeached
Nigga, ain't shit sweet

Oh yeah, yeah
Katana
Tryna find you, or should I remind you?
In my blindside when I'm right by you
Woah (Woah)
Woah (Woah)
Woah (Woah)
Woah (Woah)

Comin' up, shit was different, man
'Cause me, I was playin' in a different game
Hustlin', tryna get some change
These motherfuckers hatin', but it ain't no thing
I'm just out here doin' me
And that's the difference 'tween you and me
'Cause I'm out here tryna truly be number one, man, fuck number two or three

Or four and five, that's hoe shit
'Cause I'm going live and it's going up
My shit gas and it's blowin' up
Your shit trash, you ain't showin' up
Gettin' bags and I'm cashin' out
Got bitches passin' out
Smash your bitch, then I'm smashin' out
'Cause you did it for cap and clout

I'm OG and my shit be like Kobe and like Nipsey
Came up with young Pimp C, so you niggas can't fuck with me
This shit be upper echelon, that's what kind of flex I'm on
You say you next? Come on
I come through and wreck, now give me the check, I'm gone
PA, that's where I'm from, H-Town, that's where I stay
Texas, that's what it do, this Dirty South, man, and we don't play
Reppin' for young Sweet Jones, and, mama, where's his T-Jones?
That's the type of shit we on, you ain't with it, fuck nigga, be gone

These niggas way too phony, something I'll never respect
You 1-800, I had to call and collect (click)
Exfoliate the guest, clean face, clean slate
These niggas got cheesecake, my niggas got sheeshcake

I don't walk outside with hoes, if she pull up, she's bae (ayy)
Viva la vi', ayy, I'm usually cooped up
Probably why he never had no cosigns, real friends and real timeless
Every show is a headline, long line, marquee Smi

Pockets on Rikishi, wrestlin' all my demons, this shit isn't easy
Same time, shorty texted sayin' she need me
Me? I'm thinking more Rio trips, get the Luigi, sheesh
Mamma mia up in the VIP off the shrooms (mamma mia)
All my partners in this bitch surround the room
And no problems in this bitch, I assume
And I'm flyer than a witch, get the broom

Full sweep when I know I'm comin' through (when I'm comin' through)
"Who's he?" when I'm comin' through
New dreams, they finally comin' true

What's up, fool? What you on, man?
Niggas tryna, niggas tryna be outside tonight or what?
Your ass need to get outside the studio
That's crazy, what's it like?
I don't know, shit
I got some Hennessy, though
I just drunk this Yerba, nigga, that shit on, nigga, I'm feelin' like Superman

Told my exes they all should join an art class
All they do is draw conclusions, probably why they hate my smart ass
Just played a show in Texas, yeehaw, new coupe got horses
Couple days, we off to Memphis, need drawers, need blunts, need Forces

See, my best friends know that I might, I might not
I don't know, I might change my mind, you understand? Like
That's the key to me, you know what I'm sayin'?
Shit
I don't know, man, it's complicated
(I'm just movin' around, 'round)
(I'm just movin' around, oh)