World’s Fair – Sammy Sosa

Jeff Donna, Cody B.Ware, Nasty Nigel and Remy Banks returns as World’s Fair with a new track titled “Sammy Sosa.” Produced by Black Noise. This will appear on the upcoming Bastards Of The Party project.

World’s Fair – Sammy Sosa

World’s Fair – Sammy Sosa Lyrics:
One day I’ll be careless, next day I’m meticulous
Cool, calm and collected, horse they jack, ridiculous
I can’t fly close to the sun or i’ll end up like icarus
I can’t stand that solar power, my flow devour shit, it’s a must
And a gentleman gets drunk and lose all social filters
A local killer going postal, no one know what’s iller
You think I’m wavy, then I’m surfing on those surfaces
I’m lurking through your nervous system
Pinpointing your nervousness
Can’t stop the blood flow, oh, don’t get a tourniquet
No doctors, no herbalists can’t stop me being murderous
Understand my purposes, no son of sam, no berkowitz
I’m more galactic, eating planets, aham, Earth it is
First up in my services
Watch how hard I worked for this
Watch how hard they watching my pockets and know my purposes
Maverick like I’m Dirk Nowitzki, ski when I score
Wanting more, might DIE for sure, but it’s worth the risk
Yo, split the arrow with the mind of a pharaoh
Double battle, could have a horse power, devour flowers
And my Nike apparel flow tighter than ??
Pussy be a modest, a goddess
Chilling, tonics with Nicky Steam
What a simple scene
I’m scoring forty over shorties so they triple team
Tino Bravo, the bottle distilled the triple bean
Now simple essential, instumentals must fit the team
Bad for your mental like liking, loving and nicotine
So influential like nino ought to caught us
And Martino at the garden, why you waiting the new order now
Who yo calling, we be balling like Steve Austin
I’ll afford your life for another night
I’m a summit, I have a thing for women straight crying
This caravan down their face while I’m straight dying
I’m fucking laughing, honey
Consider myself upper class when I say match for money
Eating fruits with funny yogurts, Throw up on shorty shoulder
We’re living lavish, let me skype in all the way from paris
Give me Paris
Bounjour, nigga, my view so magnifique
Tell he made a look, or at least he try to groove with me
Laughing, chatting, we’re snacking on macaroons for Nikie D.
Big Mac till the Delta Gree, how you’re living B
Still go to the same bar, still sporting that wide bed
Bet I put on white shoes like an old god singing like ??, not your Ruby Rosa
Quitate la ropa, ensename to chocha
Move Barcelona, please my skin like Sammy Sosa
Sexy three home runs, callate la boca.
World's Fair - Sammy Sosa

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