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Artist: Armani of York
Album:  Child With a Gun
Song:   Squalay
Typed by: Vinyl and Gold Records

Verse One:

Lighting up the cosmos
Chilling with the sanchos
Counting all this cash that I'm making over samples
Born in England, raised in a dungeon
Raised up in chains and I'm mentally abandoned
Now I'm drinkin' liquor, getting' sicker, shooting canons
Driving round in a 'rari or a phantom
Boys countin' cash but I told 'em stop counting
Just let it pour in like a motherfucking fountain
V and G bitch, no need for pronouncing
Hard road ahead but we gotta climb the mountain
Feelin' real good cuz the gods keep me grounded
Tryin' to stay on the low but I'm always getting' hounded
In the hood with your bitch and she's probably gettin' pounded
Pussy real good dawg you must've been astounded
You never broke up, but yet she rebounded
But don't be surprised and stop looking dumfounded


Blazing the reefa, smokin' up the cheeba
Lookin' round town for a fly mamasita 'Squalay'
We bangin' through the speakers
These kids on the streets as rappers we they teachers

Verse Two:

I'll change this game, while you stay the same
Kush in the blunt, no detox man
Lookin' at my watch, we the re-up gang
And if you flauntin' round your money dawg we'll steal those chains
Studied the fog of war, and slanged that cane
And if a girl calls me up I will bang that dame
Word up to Kamilson, tryin' to make a million
Pounds of this shit and I love the fuckin' feeling
Taking off in a plane, hear the wheels squealin'
Got the money now so theres no need for stealin'
Girls looking at me like I make half a billion
T Dot O and we always drug dealin'
Murder was the case still I feel these wounds healin'
Burner on my waste now no need for concealin'

Verse Three:

Freakin' on a bitch while we tryin' to get rich
But there's more to this world than this thug life shit
Get drunk like these bitches at the back
When I dance with 'em on the floor give 'em heart attacks
And hold that, drink as I roll that
Cuz most cats runnin' round with fur on they backs
Think they pimpin', but no dawg
We gettin dough like homer simpson
Skate low with some broads at the Hilton
When we come to your town we'll burn down the buildings
So dawg, I suggest you hide your wives and children
Appealing to the masses, and the millions
Spicin' up now dawg call me Sicilian
Not Italian but I ain't shy to killin'
Fuck with my crew see these gats fuckin' spillin'
Only takes one shot to drill in, leave your body chillin