187

Title	187
Artist	FTL_Sol
Album	Only The Sun
Release Date	(not set)
Description	?
Lyrics	Doc Pop of WIYF: Eyes set on this Corvette, 13 for the ticket I'm trying to get it, shit I'm finna get it, cuz I'm finna get it, yes I'ma be with it nigga Is you with it, or are you a critic? You can get dismissed for fucking with digits, you dig it? This trill shit, admit it nigga, tired of poor pimping That's why I'm changing up positions, '94 'Vette with the pistons With two seats, fit four in it, get your bitch to fuck all my niggas When I get right I'ma take care of all my niggas, one call my nigga, end it all my nigga Live raw my nigga, ready for war my nigga, Afghan in the blunt or the Raw my nigga 187, Samuel Jackson It's a target on your jacket let me know what's happening It don't matter where you at nigga they still got axes Little known fact, perfect don't come from practice 187, Samuel Jackson It's a target on your jacket let me know what's happening It don't matter where you at nigga they still got axes Little known fact, perfect don't come from practice Yoaty of WIYF: I'm at war with my vices, siphon 'em out Life is a garden and weeds gon sprout But I bang, bang, bang, sugar cane in my mouth What the fuck you mean? Get slain in the South Your bitch in first chair? Pipe in her mouth Politely but spitefully striking her spout Cuz you think you on, nigga 187 Molotov's thrown til your soul's released I done gave you the seeds Now you can grow roses or you can grow weeds It's strictly your choice how you shall proceed I done washed my hands let me drink O.E I got plans to get loaded, riding on the low with a ho, I'm a pluck that lotus Finna pop that cork to all of them bottled emotions Sol: 23 years worth of dimes for my thoughts brah, and I got 23 years worth of crimes I ain't been caught for, and I got 23 years worth silence I done thought of, and I got Niggas on the ring, if need be, to come see me discretely Elite team, smite a nigga quick despite defeat, delete thee, talk or tweet beef Cuz talk is cheap, I bust a nigga open like I'm on TV with Paula Deen See I'm off the beat but I'm on my shit Walk 6'3 til I'm obsolete You a common thief, a wannabe Generic as the pills at the pharmacy Him in Gen. Pop. like a comedy Corny to the grit, hominy Rocketry is my policy, quality parallel to my quantity See the artistry is in harmony with the logic, which carries on constantly I am longingly, you a novelty This a homicide, you call police Before they done interrogating I got a snowflake to fall through, and post a nigga bond for me I'm a molecule, they bond to me Is it the modesty or something bodily? They call me Boo, baby, I love you Majesty, or Your Sovereignty I just sit back, relax, thrax out Practice on rolling this botany You might also likeDoc Pop: 187, Samuel Jackson It's a target on your jacket let me know what's happening It don't matter where you at nigga they still got axes Little known fact, perfect don't come from practice 187, Samuel Jackson It's a target on your jacket let me know what's happening It don't matter where you at nigga they still got axes Little known fact, perfect don't come from practice