Testo di 'Lost Files (feat. Eminem)' di Rihanna

This just in, this nigga black back rapping
That mean the payroll is ready, you know that cognac is happy
I pray my liver make it, don’t read your contracts petty
Just read the mission statement, my niggas bout that fetti
And I was hustling backwards, taking picture with actors
And a disguise ain’t what you fear, but what you fear is a factor
These niggas scared of bizzy, cause I get busy for practice
But disregard the shit, ain’t tryna answer your questions
I cross em over quick, I’m iverson with the rock

If I see jordan at the top of the key, nigga it’s bap bap
Then it’s lights out, this is my house
Fuck y’all, nigga I ball
My bench going through withdrawals, do it with y’all or without y’all
And I rep home at away games, then come home and eat rogaine
I’m too young to be stressed out (he too young to be stressed out)
Coroner, pick him up, he ain’t have it, on deck
Cobain, va, real nigga, up next
Get it

Flow on 100 thou
Fuck your fashion, all my youngins know which gun in style
Suckers got me fucked up, and I body bought the bitch
And I ain’t talking house arrest when I say my niggas semi out
No bench sitting, just niggas working
No penny pinching, just plenty purchase
Phones, hatian boy don’t leave em alone
When I’m a nature boy, I blow on grass and be a stone
Legendary folarin, bitch I’m butter with orders shit
Niggas cooking, I’m frying by insurmountable margin

When you come to my town, put you right where you want to be
Got variety, brims like home appliance apartment
I’m providing the ignorance with a side of some conscious
Imma stick with a small one, but imma slide with a bopper
Got a chick from the hood, got a chick that’s in college
I just put them lips together like I’m tired of talk