Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

Vans by The FranchiZe KiD Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2012

Intro [Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay]:
Kumar: This is weed!
George W. Bush: That's Alabama Kush. That's only the finest
Kumar: So, you get high and then you put other people who smoke weed in jail?
Bush: Duh!
Kumar: That's so hypocritical!
Bush: Oh yeah? Let me ask you something, Kumar: Do you like giving hand jobs?
Kumar: No, sir
Bush: Do you like getting hand jobs?
Kumar: Well, yeah
Bush: All right, well that makes you a fuckin' hypocriticizer too. So shut the fuck up. And smoke my weed

Yeah, and it's the muthafuckin' kid
(Got my Vans on, finna walk out the door)

[Verse 1: The FranchiZe KiD]
Heyo I got my Vans on, they don't look like shit
But some fly ass kicks, what you know about this, bitch?
I'm the Vans where Wiz is, the Chucks
With my finger in the air, I don't really give a fuck
Other hand in the air, four fingers like a fiddle
They twisted in the middle, nigga do you get my riddle? (Westsiide)
I'm talking Vans parked on the beach but that wasn't for me so I threw them on my feet
Now I'm riding 'round my city doing things I'm not supposed to
Fuck it, nigga, I'm local, to these niggas I'm Goku
Better yet I'm Gohan, I'm the prodigy
So why these people follow me and bad bitches swallow me
I said "What's your profession?", she tell me that it's modelin'
Flow so beautiful, strike a pose, it's modelin'
And they be like "How do you use the same rhyme twice?"
I'm like "Nigga I'm nice", I could use this shit thrice
And it'd still be tight, bars that'd change a nigga life
Prison bars, I got these people asking "Is this kid from Mars?"
No way a human this damn good or this damn real
My name The FranchiZe, tell me how you feel nigga
(Got my Vans on, finna walk out the door)

[Verse 2: The FranchiZe Kid]
Four fingers in the air, two of 'em twisted
This is my mission, to show niggas that I'm gifted
With these writtens that I'm spitting
With a flow untouchable to others
Got brothas running for covers and bitches tryna get under covers
And that mean under me, and she love to give me brain
Call that giving what she wondering
She know what I be thinking I got money on my head
But I just call that Wonder bread, white packages and all that
Kill tracks with all my raps, hating ass niggas falling back
See what's on my mind, they call that fact
That is though, bald no hair, that wig flow
Way up in the sky so this that mothafucking Wiz flow
I'm reppin' San Diego, this that mothafucking KiD flow
I kill this currently and do it for the currency
Most of y'all ain't heard of me, murdering beats surgically
Dissecting like C-sections from the rectum to the septum
And it's viewer discretion so I'm up now and I'm just reflecting
Thinking it's a blessing, I'm still winning like Barack elections
Now I'm looking for a girl to give me brain who ain't my attesting
Took the bar exam and passed with flying spectrum, nigga

(Got my Vans on, finna walk out the door)
And it's the mothafucking kid
Said it's the mothafucking kid
Hey it's the mothafucking kid
Hey! It's the mothafucking kid
It's the mothafucking kid
It's the mothafucking kid