Nightclub Fight Club - (Flap Jack Stackin') | Текст песни

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• Nightclub Fight Club
• (Flap Jack Stackin')

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Hook:
We be flap jack stackin'

Mike:
Syrup on my money
my hands are sticky and my wallet's all gummy
ain't no reason I just thought it would be funny
hundreds all goopy, so I call them bitches honey
shit's ridiculous...ly sticky
Aunt Jemima on my Bens, so they sticky
call my money "Ricky"
frankly I don't know why, except for that it rhymes with "sticky"
look, my cash is like a sticky book
I got sticky fingers like a hippie crook
hippie like some sticky weed, crook because of sticky cheese
all my money sticks to me, but I'm like a bad cook
Cuz I burn right through it
My money sticks to me cuz some syrup stuck to it
Damn, I feel this beat
I feel my feet: they gross, from steppin on my syrup money

JP:
I stack my flap jacks, I rap on laugh tracks
I got a bad back steppin on my syrup money
I got my whole crew doodoo in a stirrup, honey
ride in to town on a zebra cuz I'm like that
I stack cake, Lincoln on that son
so you know I'm all about Log Cabin
bad rap son, don't need that, son
you got thick bitches? I need a fat one
Gimme my pancakes, I'm hittin Waffle House
Flap jack stack flattenin a wafflemouse
you puttin in work? Well I'm the manager
My money covered with maple like Canada
I got a plan for ya, go get a damn plate
And I'm a stack a fuckin mountain up with flapjacks
Cheeseburger internet
I make it snow, hos ain't ready for winter yet
Skeeze murder intellect, geese herder imperfection
gun runners muffle thunder with the splinter set
"the fuck that mean?" it mean I'm David Craig
cuz niggas know me for my role in makin' Layer Cake
my money glued to my fork like painter's tape
I'm steady eating and my beverage is haterade