Illegal - Sam Lachow, Ryan Campbell, John Martin

You shot me up in your dream last night

You wonder if in real life you woulda won that fight

Ya shot guns, guns, shoulda shot more guns

If you were wide awake would that have been a lot more fun?

Well I’m just rappin' 'bout the money well seein' what money brings

Laughin' at the funny rappers doin' funny things

Blah blah blah shoulda made the right choice

I’m gettin' head screamin' «I'm a gangster-ass white boy!»

And I don’t even think she likes boys

This sex is on fire, how the fuck is this legal?

I’m gettin' even higher I’m flyin' with the seagulls

This head is unreal (how the fuck is this legal?)

Look

I walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me

I’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me

Bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me

I walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?)

Look

I know I’ve had some thoughts and dreams you prolly think you’ve had

But I wonder in real life if you’da took that chance

I need funds, funds, hundreds n' thousands

Fuck it I’m done scroungin' the

Don’t matter who you are in the end, 'cause time gets you

So while I’m in this life I stay cleaner than five whistles

Trust we on the way, we ain’t goin' any place

Bartender 86th, but we goin' anyways

Keep it wavy in the seat, that’s my weed smokin' look

Come on man, you’da me, it’s like clico to cooks

I be on, two or three, see we hit 'em like jugs

While my cup’s lookin' chilly zig zag’s lookin' kush

Look

I walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me

I’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me

Bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me

I walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?)

{Verse 3: Sam Lachow]

I’m hoppin' on the L to Brooklyn so I can slobber on some L’s in Brooklyn

I’m the man out here (uh huh)

Where’s twenty foot gram out here

I got the hookups so the dojo come from California

Yo who the fuck brought you here?

Matter fact, the truth is, I’m new here

Shag pone swag I thought you knew this

They tellin' me to be more politically correct

But I love rap yah rap’s about smokin' and oral sex

Dude ya lady’s hella crazy after all

I took her out just for fun but without her I’m better off

She put her number in my phone but I forgot, never called

And then she found me weeks later trippin' out at Webster Hall

Look

I walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me

I’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me

Bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me

I walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?)

Drums, drums, I beat on drums

I’m a giant here I come, fee, fi, fo, fum

I don’t wanna here a hum, better bite yo tongue

I’ll eat a beet, and a whole microphone, yum

I’m spittin' nothin' but venom I’m a head above like a center

I’m Ricky Bobby the winner and baby Jesus at dinner

You intermediate flow to hit me you gotta get lessons

On next, gold necklace jump to kiro calisthenics

I enter into a room I’m the life of it 'til I exit

The record hittin' the needle they bouncin' just like my checks is

My F-L-O-W row without the protection

I’m keepin' it ninety plus and then I wrecked it

You breastfed, baby

Look

I walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me

I’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me

Bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me

I walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?)