"Stay Schemin (Freestyle)" lyrics - TORY LANEZ

"Stay Schemin (Freestyle)"
feat. Sos Couture

[Intro: Tory Lanez]
SLS 'til the death
Warner Brother forever
And shout out to Kids
Trill girl Camillo

[Chorus: Tory Lanez]
I ride for my niggas, dawg
I ride for my niggas
.45 on my niggas, sold
.45 on my niggas
Stay schemin', niggas tryna fuck my bitch

[Verse 1: Tory Lanez]
Damn, life so long
Fuck her, she ain't wanna hit the bong
Fuck it, I got bunches for the next bitch
Drip drippin' on the dick like it's Nesquik
I had your bitch doin' somersaults
All my motherfuckin' life, I been an underdog
All my motherfuckin' life, I been an underdog
All my motherfuckin' life, I been an underdog
All my, all my, all my-my-my
All my motherfuckin' life, I been an underdog
That's why I gotta stack this paper 'fore the summer, dawg
Big dick on your chick tit like a underbra
Vegas with my top hoe, drop top with the top
Chop plates, slop slow, tell a hater lock load
He can keep grillin' 'cause them killers on the top floor
Tatted like a botso
It's one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor her, baby, this is shot four
Got this bitch jumpin' like I'm standin' on the hop floor
Spittin' like a snot nose, sneeze on the drop rose
Niggas lookin' hungry and the cheese like a pot roast
Young niggas with the shit
Got these niggas pissy that this young nigga gettin' it
I keep tryin' ball out, keep sharin' bitches
'Cause with bitches, niggas fall out
Been a situation, that niggas had to crawl out
Niggas talkin' tougher when you seein' them stall out
Phoney ass hoe tryna ball out
Shit, I can say that they inspire me
But for what they are, not these niggas that they tryna be
I love life, nigga
Bandana tie like thug life, nigga
Murder on the track just because, my nigga
Then I kill that shit, that's enough life, nigga

[Interlude: Tory Lanez]
Ladies and gentlemen, I did my little thing but it's not about me right now. It's about my older brother in this motherfucker, Sos Couture. So give it up for the man I'm about to let out of the motherfuckin' cage and let's get nasty

[Verse 2: Sos Couture]
I had the block doin' backflips
Make crack flip and hallways that smelled like cat piss
Pass packs to bad kids who had dreams
Of pushin' fast whips that would attract fast checks
I hustle, hustle so suffer from havin' to watch shit
Cold nights consisted of frost bitten fingers and cracked lips
Weekends in Hawaii and I spend it all at Saaks 5th
Didn't save for dimes 'cause at the time to see my lacked sense
Though I could account for everywhere that them packs went
I wasn't tryna rap sickles, I was tryna wrap bricks
3 Os in one night, called that the hat trick
3 hoes in one night, called that the hat trick
Model my stories if I told you my story
My guts and glory, that have you flabbergasted
Take a long puff of the pushin' pinger and pass it
Tryna live life to the fullest, tryna pass on the casket
8 balls served, no ragged
Cops on my ass tryna break up my rackin'
Ratchet 'cause I hit the block, harder than a crackin'
Soldiers got to crack, right up and they crackin'
And make it all disappear in 10 minutes, that's magic
But the destruction of a young mom, that's tragic
But it all depends on whoever you askin'
The school teacher or the fiend in the street scratchin'
Thankin' my nigga Fresh, kicks plus 10
Fresh my nigga, I hate to, hate to be him
Bitch, you wasn't with my shittin' in the bed
Bitch, you wasn't with my shittin' in the bed
Gettin' hard up in the boulevard and even harder in the jail cell
Prosecution, lies and judge deny his bail
But my mind gets stronger as the time sells
Like they gave me time to realise where my crime fell
But a man to help, tryna sleep in the belly of the beast
Where I need me a seroquel
But even lookin' in the mirror kills
Shit, at times I give myself the chills, watchin' as the anger builds
But don't rush, I got my back to build
And my shoes laced, in the place where the wolves prey
Yeah, yeah

[Outro: Tory Lanez & Sos Couture]
Yo man, leave it, lemme talk, lemme talk my shit, man. Give me a second. Y'all niggas, y'all niggas stay schemin', man. Y'all niggas stay plottin' on the real ones. Persons told you to motherfuckin' manage it. Somebody should have popped you right in the mouth the first time you put your hands in the cookie jar. Say I got the rhythm. One Umbrella. Canada. Sincerely Tory, March 26, my nigga. You already know what it is, it's Fres, don't make me put that in the end. Canada, Canada