Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

Energy by Tyric Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2018

(woo), (ya)

(Verse 1)

Got rid of my problems
Flex, I was skir, I was driving it by
Fuck it my motto, cause people was hating and I don't know why
Move it, move it, move it
I'm just feeling hype, I can face the music (woo)
Pop like Caan
I need to be unruly (woo, woo)
Claim you heat well then my nigga prove it

Swear my wrist flick like Janobli
I scope you on ends you don't know me
Man I got the energy
Nigga I
Man I don't need the force on my side

Switch up
Tyty gotta tally all the real ones (woo)
Vest up
Man, o man i'm cooking with the real stuff (woo)
Add spice
That's just like a curry for the children
Hot as hell, time will tell
I see bars, like i'm in a cell
Man you don't know
Like kiss and tell
I was balling like NFL
Man my bars are so out this world
Call them space bars (space bars)
Skir, gone, race car (gone)
Im rolling, Im rolling, Im rolling
Im talking bout real sound
Im going, Im showing
They jump like I jet, but they gotta pop pills dawg
Flex with my day ones (flex)
Make calls and get some (get)
Make calls and get some
(Chorus)
O man i'm charged and i'm gassed for the road
I got the energy
Dawg, you don't know
I'm seeing they snakes and they think I don't know
But I just keep quiet, cause I don't expose
Keep it on low
They don't know
That I got the energy, that I got the energy, that I got the energy
They don't know

(Verse 2)

Stop at Engine, man you need some gas
You twist like fritos and you juked demand (twisting nigga)
Cooking in the kitchen, had the gas on
We gon hit the Uber to the soundcheck and they treat the sound like Babylon (skir,skir)
17 undying like a soul (yeah)
I treat you like Boov, know i'm sending you boys home
I leave you boys stripped, like girls ridding on a pole
When you see us then you dip, like you got chips in the sauce
And you niggas got no bars like the sound stop
I just can't fight the feeling with it
Yet i'm breathing with it
Take it easy with it
I can't see the finish
Still no wait
I got the sound
I got the juice, got the sauce
I could help you at a cost
Verses spicy call me Robertsins
Tatting 7's on the carcasses
Tracks like Kevin cause they hearting (ahh)
(Verse 3)

Ima serve the shit like the help
Leave you holding hands
You all think you the ones
You some Ronaldo fans
I got the Ghost with me
Most of y'all niggas hoax to me
My niggas got tech that's picked fresh
From the Apple tree
Sweet like the victories
Y'all niggas wanna bees
Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing
Know you got the z's (yeah)

(The proclimation)