Bas – Fried Rice lyrics

[Intro: Bas]
Milk

[Chorus: Bas]
Decisions I be makin' when I get impaired
Tell me where the ginger, man, I’m gettin' there
Money in my pocket barely fittin' there
But I fell in love with how it’s sittin' there
Old bitches miss me, a hole in her soul
But I'm over it though, had to block me a number

[Interlude]
We're sorry

[Verse 1: Bas]
This from the latest collection, my boy
You can copy the wave when I drop in the summer
Fiends got the city up under the wing like it's fried rice
I done died twice, I got nine lives, that means seven to spare
Vision blurry, but the hindsight always 20/20, I see Heaven or Hell
Yeah, just to bust up a cell
Yeah, tell 'em come and give me fuckin' non-violence when the .9 flyin'
Hear her lullaby make ’em sing like Adele
Heavy on me like a pound, singin’ off key, get 'em off me
We on north streets for the money, niggas hit up Wall Street
Had them boys ringin’ the bell
Ain't no Libra, but my scale ready if this rap shit ever fail get me hot
My borough taught me how to run a block
Confidence is quiet, I don't talk a lot
I call my mama, and I call the shots
I don't call these bitches, they just talk a lot
Cop a couple toys, and we can make a play
Now the driveway like a parking lot
Beware the dogs what the sign say
I did it my way, I did it my way

[Chorus: Bas]
Decisions I be makin’ when I get impaired
Tell me where the ginger, man, I'm gettin' there
Money in my pocket barely fittin' there
But I fell in love with how it's sittin' there
Old bitches miss me, a hole in her soul
But I'm over it though, had to block me a number

[Interlude: JID]
Block-block, uh, block, look

[Verse 2: JID]
You got a girl, but it not like mine
She got a ass, but she not that fine
Don't make a nigga laugh
I need the cash in a bag in advance
Before I grab any mic in the stand
Don't make a nigga mad
Spazz the fuck out, all bad, I'm all-Madden
I'm on a go route now, but I do all patterns
I'm with your ho right now, and she's a tall glass
I'm a can full of whoop-yo-ass
A little .40 in a booking bag
I put a bullet in your looking ass
Aw, baby, what is you doin'?
Lookin', askin' for something you can work yo ass off for
My nigga, grab it, go after it
I'm p-p-passionate, d-d-damagin' my anatomy
Don't get mad at me if I pass out while I'm ramblin'
I'm an animal, an anomaly
Mari-mari-marijuana, it's the god in me, gotta be
A better way just to get away, takin' the back-street roads
A couple days, maybe, give or take (Yeah)
Baby (Uh), I'm gon' get home
When I'm in the zone I'm in, I'm ignoring your phone call again
The phone, off the dome talk, your phone block-block
You're on, switch off
The long lost lil' nigga gettin' it how he live, hol' up

[Chorus: Bas]
Decisions I be makin' when I get impaired
Tell me where the ginger, man, I'm gettin' there
Money in my pocket barely fittin' there
But I fell in love with how it's sittin' there
Old bitches miss me, a hole in her soul
But I'm over it though, had to block me a number

[Outro: Bas]
This from the latest collection, my boy
You can copy the wave when I drop in the summer
Fiends got the city up under the wing like it's fried rice
Like it's fried rice
Boy, you can copy the wave when I drop in the summer
Fiends got the city up under the wing like it's fried rice
Like it's fried rice