Cecil Fielder Lyrics by Boldy James
Boldy, that’s how you coming, my nigga?
It’s that real authentic D-Boy shit, man
You know?
Let’s get it
Can’t recall what became, but shit, that lame got paid to take the fall
Can’t mention Boldy name for clout without getting my gang involved
Bird-bathing, stashing all the pape’, hitting the basement wall
In the speed game and three weeks straight was barely changing drawers
Yeah, very blue moon tuck a 280 ball, my Jose hit me back
Walked out the room, I gotta take this call
Couple points on them joints, I can’t complain at all
Real D-Boy from Detroit, came up on Ye and Dog
Probably should hang it up before them bitches frame us all
No, our niggas ain’t gang with us if we ain’t feel no pain with y’all
Last grade completed was the eighth, but now it’s cakes and all
Always been misunderstood, but I was good at breaking laws
Pool sharkin’ and got more clout than Casey Hall
I shoot them out the way every time the Spartans play DePaul
Robbing Peter to pay Paul for 18 circles, that’s a game of golf
Two bricks on my shirt, just trying to play it off
What else?
These bitches too possessive
They always put a five on it, bend the truth and stretch it
Legend of Zelda, just met a new connection
Cut a few niggas out the circle, made a few corrections
Brick of Matilda, 4-5 Cecil Fielder
Yves St Laurents down in Vermont I was the new Magellan
All of these niggas snitching
Shit, I’m like who you telling?
It’s 1-8-7-tout puissant extension 227
When we was trapping, had to make it fun
Who can move they sack the fastest? Last one make the coney runs
Talking shit won’t fly, can’t go for none
You gotta show me some
Police chased me, that shit hurt, I had to throw my only gun
No refunds once you walk out the trap, but that shit jumping back
Dracos ain’t gonna let me down
I shake your hand, you don’t run from that
12th birthday, my pops gave me a stack, and that shit smelled like crack
Before God gave me all these dreams to rap, I dreamed of scorpion stamps
Me and Brody knew if they pulled over this Chevy, it’s distribution
Can’t say we using this bag, we got too heavy
Fiend caught a phone and got $8, but he wanna dime, shit petty
I don’t turn it down, watch me lock in and stack it all the way to a Prezi, nigga
You feel me?
These bitches too possessive
They always put a five on it, bend the truth and stretch it
Legend of Zelda, just met a new connection
Cut a few niggas out the circle, made a few corrections
Brick of Matilda, 4-5 Cecil Fielder
Yves St Laurents down in Vermont I was the new Magellan
All of these niggas snitching
Shit, I’m like who you telling?
It’s 1-8-7-tout puissant extension 227