Tory Lanez Freestyle on Sway in the Morning, Pt. 1 (2015) lyrics

[Verse]
Yeah, uh, yeah
Keep talkin', females, keep talkin' me
I just keep a b*tch cut, meat market, please
Say freeze like f*ck it, I'm defrostin', pap
I gets green like Jack and the Beanstalk
And I do them hoes stone cold, Steve Austin
If you talkin' 'bout money, don't be bluff or cheap talkin'
My team often tell me that we flossin'
Off in G4s, just tell 'em send reinforcements
Got crazy divas in my ish
And my car strapped like it's baby seaters in the whip
I don't play nine days, b*tches treatin' for a trick
Keep it money over b*tches, won't repeat it for a chick
Yes, fresh all-white Adidas in the whip
And if you're talkin' 'bout weed then Orangina is my sh*t
A couple grand for my feature is a b*tch
I'd hate to be you but you would love to be this
Peep this G sh*t, T Lanez, G sh*t
I bring the wave to them haters, make them haters seasick
All the diamonds legit, all vagina we pick
With your girl in my livin' room playin' WiiFit
Get popped like three fits then shot like three flicks
And my kicks Asian like Kimora Lee's tits, yes
Tell the waiter she can order me this
We's rich, we don't even act accordingly
It's the Mr. n*gga-Pick-Out-Your-Arteries, b*tch
I wish a n*gga would try to slaughter me
Follow me, Twitter, b*tch
If you ain't got a girl, get a b*tch
Make the b*tch make you rich, sorta like that player sh*t
'Cause nowadays b*tches only wanna play the pimp
They get major, get paper, then they play the pimp
That's why I slide by, I be like, "f*ck a b*tch"
After I f*ck a b*tch, I be like, "f*ck the b*tch"
I run game, no cutter glitch, somethin' rich
Not tryna f*ck, I'm tryna get head from your chick
And real talkin', I don't do it for the people
Ride through it like Knievel, Swine Flu, you need a needle
Car doors writin' suicide notes to the people
I ain't trippin' off the eagle, my juice like a beetle
Uh, beat it like I beat the pus*y
Here's the heater, n*gga, eat it like you eat the pus*y
And y'all yappin', y'all never brought the heaters to me
So long nappin' if they never brought the sleeper to me
They like, "Aw man, Tory Lanez be that Tarzan"
Pay him four grand, leave him laid up in a far land
Tory garage like a farm, baby, all Lambs
With no mirage, all menage, baby, all 'em
With no Nicki, n*gga, b*tches rollin' with me
So much grands in my pants that my pants can't fit me
I dance quickly, baddest b*tches can't get me
Now these hoes payin' me to even let 'em stand with me
Damn it pans out, like highlighters I stand out
Boom, like retirement homes, I bring them grams out, uh
And this is just a verse of what the man's 'bout
So keep talkin', boy this whole sh*t's planned out
Yes, I'm ridin' on 'em like a G2
Plus I'm the sh*t, baby, mothaf*ckin' P.U
I'm on my P.Q.s, carats look pre-juiced
Gon' and grab your chick and do the grown sh*t we do
Yes, I know these n*ggas 'bout to act scary
T.O. n*gga, only spittin' without the BlackBerry
My n*ggas ballin', n*ggas, they never stallin'
I'm Mike Jordan with a Rawlings or a Spalding
All day, n*gga, yeah, Kanye, n*gga
'Bout to kill every n*gga that was on Sway, n*gga
Look, I'm ballin' all day, look, said to my n*gga Pain
n*ggas in this sh*t, they know I'ma get 'em entertained
I'ma get this sh*t intertwined, and get you in a strain
n*ggas gettin' p*ssed but they know I gotta get 'em drained
Drained out, same game out, same safehouse
Had to bust the trap back, brought it to the safehouse
We was hittin' safe routes when Pain told me
You was gon' get this paper and I had the same homies
I knew sh*t was goin' crazy, I had the game on him, uh
n*ggas don't think it's crazy, get the thang on 'em
Look, uh, I'm 'bout to sip up on this ginger ale
These n*ggas still gettin' sh*t, they gotta give 'em bail
My n*gga Kellz, he up in his cell
We still talkin' like it's Wi-Fi up in his cell
I touch down just like it's NFL
Then I'm in the SSL, then I'm in a shorty named Vanessa Sail
I'm pullin' off the SLS sippin' V.S.O.P
They get me stressin', yeah I'm callin' up the SODs
Abbreviation talk, bang bang, hate to talk
And we pullin' up in matchin' cars because we hate to walk