Newport Music lyrics

[Production by LeKen Taylor]

[Intro]
Yeah
You have now tuned into the Lavender Love Section
Newports and bad b*tches, cold drinks and chicken wings
Watermelon seeds and b*tches with no weaves
Before I go in, let me roll up my sleeves
Yeah
Donald Love, baby

[Verse 1: Sha Hef]
True!
Back on the block, no crack in my sock, just dope and my God
And your b*tch in my car, she back on my di*k, she know who we are
So come float with a star, a consolation
I'm the sh*t, no constipation
Back to the crib for some consommation
Pluck her then f*ck her, no conversation
I'm just saying, ain't no debating my greatness, these n*ggas is basic
And I'm wasted, writing this rap and cap in the back of a spaceship
Just face it
Pour a little out for the ones that never made it
And shout out to the hoes that I f*cked, but never dated
Even in HD, I look hella faded
Feeling hella jaded, OG got me feeling elevated
Got me all sedated, n*gga wants to fight cause his b*tch got me on her playlist
We ain't gotta say sh*t
We come back to the trap with the straps and my n*ggas just spray sh*t
Got 50 Xan's in that party pack
Feeling like I had a heart attack
I got 50 b*tches wanting autographs
I got 50 blunts, I'm smoking all of that
That's all I know: good weed, sex, money, and hoes
Hit the booth and I spit plenty of flows
Check my rap sheet, I flip plenty of O's
Oh!
[Hook: Retch] (x2)
I'm what you get when you mix coca and a triple beam
If it ain't the Feds, I'm falling victim to this nicotine
Selling drugs, doing drugs
Busting sexies in the club
Like motherf*ck this rap sh*t
I grew up in that trap, b*tch

[Verse 2: Da$h]
Deep inhales, drunk texting a couple hoes
Replies come by the time I exhale, saying it's a go
sh*t, fa sho, after I drop these flows, I'll probably call you
Enjoyed the pus*y but love my money, f*ck what you thought, boo
Got use to getting use to timezone changes
Joe Namath, JET planing
For the green, you ain't paying, you ain't sh*t
What I'm claiming? H's clique
Don't make dollars, ain't no sense
If your b*tch know me, suck my di*k, I'm coming up, she think I'm rich
Way I'm living got my peers with a certain hate
Get acquainted with your maker, ever try to touch my plate
Borderline immortals, b*tch from Haiti smoking in my place
Told her roll her own, cause the gods only chief to the face
Putting you on game, G-coded, lames don't understand it
Got faded and made my lane just like I f*cking planned it
Manic expression, getting high keep me out of depression
Teaching every time I speak and see money the lesson
[Hook]

[Verse 3: Retch]
Minute Maid in that Cognac, two days in that same Lo
n*ggas ask where the hoes at, I just act like I ain't know
n*gga, we from the same hood, all f*ck with them same hoes
His b*tch f*ck her man, we all know how that dame goes
Came up on Park Street, swear a young n*gga slang O's
Champ hoodie and it cover my face, n*gga just out trying to stay low
But the Feds on my ass, while they harass, every time I see them, I be hoping they crash
Ejected from the seat and fly through the glass, his kids have to watch as they go under grass
Six feet, dig deep, we laugh, his b*tch weep
R-I-P to that pipsqueak, hang a f*cking cop by his pig feet
f*ck jail, I ain't going back cause I'm too fly, think orange whack
I got mad hoes, I love blowing thrax and I'm in the room, I got the loudest pack
And I really can't let none of that go
Black and from the hood with some foreign ass hoes
So I'm all up in the rearview when I'm peeping for the motherf*cking Peoples
n*gga, I ain't trynna see 'em like

[Hook]