Open Season from Naked Lunch by John Stamps

40 ounce of that Old English,
Walking around with a bucket a paint, everything that i sow seemless,
The job was botched and I'm stuck in the bank
I was wearing suspenders, she was being suspenseful.
Doobies her boobies and margaritas everything was so simple

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Rolling around on the tempo
I think we've reached crescendo
This ain't really my shin dig
Let's hit the flamingo
Let's roll up extendos
Let's roll down the windows
Callin up some bimbos
You call up those freak hoes
I'll call up our equals
Then we gone make a sequel
da guy yo like pico
So suave tho like Rico
She gone off placebo
That's not incognito
Obsessed with your ego
Tuxedo mosquito
No lack of libido
She living lavida
Man you need to meet her
Man I just ta made her
gave her just the tip as if the bill was comped by the waiter,

Hook:
Baby we can roll,
you can take control,
you can take a toll,
but im a take your soul. x2

Oreo Jones:
Call me in the PM for your free tera reading,
Got your party pants bleeding my nigga its open season.
In panama city beach in my viva la john stamps tee,
on a cloud nigga i'm wondering where the hams be,
hold it just like that,
in the dollar store with a screen print hat,
nigga where the party at,
where the party at,
no really mother fucker where the party at?
karaoke king on the throne,
stoned to the bone,
thousands of miles from home.
Sweet dreaming we stay scheming on the ghost gun summer we dream teaming.
Grab her booty,
and she callin' out,
where the gatorade she tryna fornicate, all my niggas all a board and we ride the wave.
Im hakeem olajuwon,
eating endless prong,
homie go all night long.
baby girl know my songs and she keeps on this beat is strong.
Doing drugs like its fruit by the foot give me numb chucks,
Gotta fatty going in like a dump truck,
nigga pizza roll, pizza roll
im in a shitty van pushing dumb luck.
On the road with renegades,
hobble on and we just got paid,
maybe you and your girls could trade,
in ya city fuck in your state.

Hook

Outro:
I heard theres different levels of hip out in fountain square,
my playing cards against the spokes echoing through the fountain air.

• Electronic
• Hip-Hop/Rap
• Trap
• indie rap
• pop
• Nashville