Larry June, The Alchemist & Boldy James - Art Talk Lyrics

[Intro: Larry June]ValetFive-star Michelin type shit, you know what I mean?Sweetheart, make sure my knife sharpened, you know what I mean?Very peacefulNumbersAl, what's happenin'? Yeah[Chorus: Larry June]Five-star trap spot (Damn), St. Regis, Marriott (Check)Art talk (Yeah), Basquiat, never see me (Numbers), out a lot (Yeah)Real estate (Check), private stock, ceramic brakes (Uh), black drop (Yeah)Got it off the blacktop (Yeah), curtains when the mag pops[Verse 1: Larry June]These the best memories, millionaire tendencies (Damn)Lemon squeeze, Jeezy clean, James Bond, new machine (Numbers)Reservation, book for three, choppin' game, sippin' tea (Check)Hunnid G's (Uh), new piece (Yeah), houses off of coca leaves (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)[Interlude: Larry June & Boldy James]Takin' walks and shit (Takin' walks and shit)Birds chirpin' (Birds chirpin')Juice sippin' (Juice sippin')And, bitch, you know I'm gon' do numbers (Numbers)Check it out (Out), ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayyAll next summer, we pullin' down on niggasLike what's poppin', Kermit? (Grr, do-do-do-do)Yeah, that wayWhat else?[Verse 2: Boldy James]Them niggas that you told on, they just got released (Go home)Blow so strong, the pack magnifiqueSnow cones in my masterpiece (Ayy), low pro rims factoryEl Satchel Paige, what's the fuckin' verdict?No more happy days, double cup of courageCrabs in the barrel, he a fuckin' hermit (Uh-huh)Youngin snatchin' chains, tell him tuck his Turkish'Fore we catch his friend, hang him up and rope himHave him tag his friend every day they post 'emHeavy plays in motion 'cause that broke nigga shitWill rub off on you quicker than some lotionNever get upset or caught up in emotion (Never)Fuckin' bad bitches from Detroit to OaklandI tell all my hoes to CC with me (What else?)You either cuttin' checks or causin' commotionNew thunderclouds off the Prada jacketYou would think these niggas'll be proud of JacksonGoin' out in style, I'm a dyin' fashionI'll be Saks Fifth-in', she be Donna Sacs-in'Born ballin', that's a fun fact (Ayy)I'll be Orenthal-in' with the drum slappers, stuck in drug trafficTold her daughter father, he a cornball, and you a crumb snatcherHunnid strips in the four-door HyundaiCan't promise you it ain't gon' be no more gunplay (Skrrt)Always knew that I'll roll dope one day (For real)Fuck a bitch, out her 401kAl, June, it's only twelve noonI already seen more paper than the mailroomCache tight-knit, you got everythingComin' full circle under the pale moon, where we at with it?[Chorus: Larry June]Five-star trap spot (Damn), St. Regis, Marriott (Check)Art talk (Yeah), Basquiat, never see me (Numbers), out a lot (Yeah)Real estate (Check), private stock, ceramic brakes (Uh), black drop (Yeah)Got it off the blacktop (Yeah), curtains when the mag pop