August Lyrics – Josh Cortes
Singer: Josh Cortes
Title: August
Yeah, that’s what I am, I’m out here
I completely have confidence in my ability
I’m not, I’m not tripping on having to over-flex or anything
I have accomplishments and they speak for themselves
Man, I must be a real rapper
Aight, yeah (let’s go!)
He’s the realist, and he really in this, real sh#t
Rappin’ like I’m Mr. Mac Miller, kids
He in the building, in the voice you hearing
Real sh#t, in this b#tch p#ss# like a drill-bit
m#lfs get hunted down, p#ss# age like fine wine
Busy on’ the clock and at work, it’s hard to find time
t#ts shaped like clementines, curves you amassed
Finna know ya, put the magnifying glass to all that #ss
Uh, It’s fire everywhere we go
Been working out a lot? Cause damn baby it shows
Here to cause some chaos, shoot your mans with paintballs
Broads see my #ss and think that I play baseball
Shit, “How’d you make out? Ummm pretty good, but I think she forget her takeout
When I see her next, we getting a table at the steakhouse
Man, she’s so brilliant, she the sh#t, got me even acting like a kid again
All these fine women, Imma never make my children
I don’t keep track of bodies, that’s obvious but
That #ss look good in the sundress, that’s obvious hun
Excuse us, for the tardiness, this one is a devious one
So, what you in it for? pretty sure it’s more than just lunch
I plan on getting dessert and more of ordering such
I know, I’m too much and I know that it sucks
But we can still have some fun, I give you more than enough
What? it’s time to celebrate, and the top candidate
She loves to delegate, so better get it straight
When’s the wedding bae? f#ck the system, babe, just do it for your sake
I been a great, I’m being straight, so in the bed do what I say
And I ain’t f#ckin what’s his name, and no need to feel intimidation
Waiting patiently, I’ll make you feel this sh#ts a simulation
Misbehaving, this intimation, she feels the bedframe breaking
Not just spitting raps, I’m also picture painting
I’m impatiently, waiting to be in that p#ss# man, procreating
Grand slam, load the bases, in the zone, bring ’em home
Damn, well aren’t we acting f#ckin grown
Now I’m in album mode, everything I touch, it turns too valuable
But you already know
Got to give a f#ck about a sl#t, cause they got power bro
Freaky, when you driving slow, but even finer though
Never will they tire with the higher moans
Might as well retire, let’s go and find a home
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Lyrics Josh Cortes – August
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