Stand Still
2 Chainz...
Scream, what's happenin'
You know man, these people man...
A lot of'em, a lot of'em going nowhere fast man
I call dat "treadmillin'", you feel me
They at a standstill man, got'em at a standstill
Long nights, more white and foresight
Foreseen in a foreign with the fog lights
On a pedestal and you're frog height
Forever clever, napalm mics
Blowed up last summer off of the freestyles
Year before that, the plug was on redial
Couple years remove for the penile
State of mind: criminal enterprise
Individuals who want extra sides
And desert, so we gone need extra pies
Emphasize I pull girls like a exercise
I pull so many hoes I need extra guys
Don't stand so close, shawty respect the fie (fire)
No sweat although the temp too high
Where I'm from, we feel the rent too high
She got me fucked up, I think the bitch too high
And I'm a southside astronaut, SA, that's the acronym
Mauri's with the air bubble on the back of them
The truck so big, it go beep backing in
Yep, yep, we got'em at a stand still
Like traffic, we got'em at a stand still
Young niggas from Atlanta, we're on a mission
Feel that, that's momentum shiftin'
Yep, yep, we got'em at a stand still
Like traffic, we got'em at a stand still
Young niggas from Atlanta, we're on a mission
Feel that, that's momentum shiftin'
Since I was a boy wearing Bugle's
Ran with the big dogs, never with the poodles
Eating noodles, being frugal, open mic at Crucial
Pussies wanna shoot you cause yo name all over Google
Plus they stuck in neutral, and I doodle when I doo doo
So I won't take no shorts, I want the whole kit n kaboodle
Martial arts flow, what I'm kickin is brutal
Fuck you busters and you suckers, you ain't shit in my pupil
Toaster in the kitchen, but I ain't fixin a stroodle
Cause I hang with street niggas that's still getin boodle
If I never knew you, you can't get a feature
Cause my words are beautiful, I'm Mona Lisa of the speaker
Me and 2 chainz backstage blowin Keisha
Witta black and yellow bitch, you can call me Wiz Khalifa
Or, shakespeare in his late years
Face fears to make the average nigga taste tears
Waist spear for my fake peers
You in park partner, I'm in eighth gear
I hear you haters hatin, I got great ears
Cause the ATL on top and we stay here, yeah