Pt 2 Extended Lyrics

Pt 2 Extended Lyrics by Kanye West :
[Intro: Pastor T.L. Barrett and Choir (Street Fighter II Announcer)]
(Perfect)
Faaaaaaaa
Faaaaaaaa
Faaaaaaaa
Faaaaaaaah

[Verse 1: Kanye West]
I told, I told, ay ay, I told you
Up in the morning, miss you bad
Sorry I ain’t called you back
Same problem my father had
All his time, all he had, all he had
In what he dreamed
All his cash, market crashed
Hurt him bad, people get divorced for that
Drops some stacks pops is good
Momma pass in Hollywood
If you ask, lost my soul
Driving fast, lost control
Off the road, jaw was broke
‘Member we all was broke
‘Member I’m coming back
I’ll be taking all the stacks

[Verse 2: Desiigner]
I got broads in Atlanta
Twistin’ dope, lean, and sh*t, sippin’ Fanta
Credit cards and the scammers
Wake up Versace sh*t, life Desiigner
Whole bunch of lavish sh*t
They be askin’ ’round town who be clappin’ sh*t
I be pullin’ up stuff in the Phantom ship
I got plenty of stuff of Bugatti whip look how I drive this sh*t
Black X6, Phantom
White X6, killin’ on camera
Pop a Perc, I can’t stand up
Gorilla, they come and kill you with bananas
Four fillas, they finna pull up in the Phantom
Know n*ggas, they come and kill you on the camera
Big Rollie, it dancin’ bigger than a Pandie
Go Oscar for Grammy, b*tch pull up ya panty
Fill up I’ma flip it, I got b*tches pull up and they get it
I got n*ggas that’s countin’ for digits
Say you make you a lot of new money
Know some killas pull off and they in the Wraith
CTD, pull up in the killa Bape
Call up Phillip-Phillip, gon’ fill the bank
n*ggas up in the bank, we gon’ drill the bank
f*ck we gon’ kill the bank, get it
I got broads, yea I get it
I get cards yea I sh*tted
This how I live it
Did it all for a ticket
Now Flex drop bombs when he spin it
And Bobby gon’ trend it
Jeff The Don doin’ business
Zana Ray f*ckin’ up sh*t and she doin’ her business
I be gettin’ to the chicken
Countin’ to the chicken
And all of my n*ggas gon’ split it

[Hook: Desiigner and (Kanye West)]
I got broads in Atlanta
Twisting dope, lean, and the Fanta (that ohh (?))
Credit cards and the scammers
Hitting off licks in the bando (taking all the stacks ohh)
Black X6, Phantom
White X6 looks like a panda (that ohh (?))
Going out like I’m Montana
Hundred killers, hundred hammers
Black X6, Phantom
White X6, panda
Pockets swole, Danny
Selling bar, candy
Man I’m the macho like Randy
The choppa go Oscar for Grammy
b*tch n*gga, pull up ya panty
Hope you killas understand me

[Verse 3: Meek Mill]
Philly!
I’m with Ruggs in Atlanta
Bunch of drugs and the Fanta
Bunch of guns in the Phantom
Spendin’ money like a scammer
My young n*ggas in the kitchen whippin’
Whippin’, livin’ large at the hammer
Duckin’ law and the scammers
Free my dawgs out the slammer
Black car, panther
Shorty call, never answer
20 foreigns in the mansion
Diamonds on me and they dancin’
I don’t really understand rappers
n*ggas jumpin’ on bandwagons
All these bands got my pants saggin’
63s on the Benz wagon
62s on the Maybach
b*tch I’m comin’ for the payback
62s in the pot, n*gga
Tryna whip it up and bring it way back
You in the club and spending your cop money
All on the ‘Gram actin’ like that you got money
We lookin’ at you like you need to stop money
You killin’ yourself with that lil’ half a block money
I got that go to the mall and get what I want paper
You the type hopin’ I fall, that’s what you want, hater
‘Member back when I was broke? I only had one hater
These suckers gon’ hate you no matter you broke or you on paper
Hundred bands, added up
We gettin’ money, they mad at us
At the jeweler buyin’ more Rollies
I don’t think these n*ggas man enough
f*ck them n*ggas, sh*t we stuntin’ on ’em
n*ggas, they ain’t got nothin’ on us
n*ggas that we never f*ck with
Run and tellin’ people that we fronted on ’em
n*gga made me put a hundred on you
Do you dirty, put the drummer on you
Shots never stoppin’, pop, pop, pop, pop
We’ll run up on you
Dead bodies, homicide
Head shot, mama cry
Cops lookin’, got an alibi
Lawyer money, n*gga, buyin’ time

[Verse 4: T-Pain]
I got b*tches in the Bronx, n*gga
They can get me in the back door
Rob a n*gga in the trap house, b*tch you just walked in the trap door
Cross the body in the Bugatti, go put the bricks in the wrapper
Thought they was sleepin on Pizzle
Somebody go ask these n*ggas what they takin’ a nap for
Illuminappy, that the squad, n*gga
Without that sh*t I would’ve been dead
But I swear to God I’ma keep killin’ n*ggas and I put that sh*t on my kid’s head
Cash Know. I’m an as*h*le. So don’t f*ck with Pizzle and his bread
I’m the type of n*gga that’ll fight a n*gga then go find his chick and give that b*tch head
Yea, I’m all the way up
¿Donde estas, mi amigo?
Don’t put your eye in that peephole
‘Cause I’ll turn the back of your head to a peephole
Then kick in the door and murk all your people
You already know the weapon is lethal
Flip the clip, guy get back, pull the hair trigger
Yeah n*gga, back for the sequel, oh
I got problems in my head, n*gga
Smokin’ that sh*t from the West Coast
The major key is when you hatin’ me, you could f*ck around get your neck broke
You f*ck around with the Winsquad, they could find your body at the Texaco
The summer comin’ and you comin’ with nothin’
You ready pus*y-n*gga, let’s go

[Bridge: T-Pain]
All I say is “Panda, Panda” and they handle-handle my sh*t
While I’m chillin’ up in Alabama tryna show a b*tch how fast a lambo can get
With all of this green up under these gold chains, they mistakin’ me for the king
b*tch, I make platinum, I’m comin’ after them
Passin’ them, all I do is f*cking win, b*tch

[Hook: Desiigner and (Kanye West)]
I got broads in Atlanta
Twisting dope, lean, and the Fanta (that ohh (?))
Credit cards and the scammers
Hitting off licks in the bando (taking all the stacks ohh)
Black X6, Phantom
White X6 looks like a panda (that ohh (?))
Going out like I’m Montana
Hundred killers, hundred hammers
Black X6, Phantom
White X6, panda
Pockets swole, Danny
Selling bar, candy
Man I’m the macho like Randy
The choppa go Oscar for Grammy
b*tch n*gga, pull up ya panty
Hope you killas understand me

[Bridge: Kanye West, (Montana of 300), and {Desiigner}]
I just want to feel liberated, I, I, I
(It’s too f*ckin’ easy!)
(Get off me!)
I just want to feel liberated, I, I, I (I’m just getting warmed up in this motherf*cker!)
{Panda, panda, panda, panda, panda, panda, panda, panda}
Taking all the stacks, oh

[Verse 5: Montana of 300]
Turned off her phone to make you think that her phone dead
She grabbed my Gucci belt buckle, I told her “Go ahead”
She ate my di*k and nicknamed it di*k Daddy Long Legs
She gave me dome so long, I called her ConeHead
You a send-off
You be taking orders, Good Burger n*gga
Old broke ass, pockets hurtin’, n*gga
Is you fat or skinny Buddy Sherman n*gga
I discourage n*ggas, then dirt a n*gga
Klay Thompson got the Stephen Curry with ’em
That’s a warrior we got with a 30 with ’em
Boy this ain’t a game, I ain’t Derwin, n*gga
Get in rappers’ head like a turban, n*gga
Make ’em feel the heat like a furnace, n*gga
If I wave it at ’em like a current, n*gga
Then he catchin’ bullets, Michael Irvin, n*gga
With his magazine from this ratchet sing
Ain’t no calories, I’ll burn a n*gga
Put yo’ greasy ass in a f*ckin’ box
That’s churches, n*gga, I done murdered n*ggas
If I’m lyin’, then God can come strike me down
When I come up they gon’ invite me out
Stay online talkin’ sh*t ’till i sign ’em out
Had to check ’em, I took ’em to Nike town
And these b*tches, they wanna be wifey now
I just did nine shows, that’s ninety thou(sand)
I be drippin’, I know they don’t like me now
Somebody please come and wipe me down
I’m on the edge, no baseline
With a hoodie on like Trayvon
I’ll shorten up your lifespan, I don’t waste time to come take time
Black 40 singin’, thats Akon
I’m a real shoota, f*ck James Bond
No screenshot, my gun flash, all headshots, that’s FaceTime
Back to the green, like Draymond
Whoo!
But see me, I don’t play no f*ckin’ games
You a goofy, a Buford, a f*ckin’ lame
You wanna ride on my di*k for some f*ckin’ fame
Get sent out from your block, that’s a f*ckin’ shame
Even you know you not in my f*ckin’ lane
I pulled up on you n*ggas like Birdman
And you know not to play with my f*ckin’ name
I know God gon’ be real disappointed in me
If I choose to come blow out ya f*ckin’ brains
Do yo’ pus*y ass like I did What’s-His-Name
Take his ass out the f*ckin’ game
You a toy boy you ain’t got Buzz
You ain’t hard, n*gga you a fake Woody
Cook his soft ass like some baked cookies
Zip his body up like a Bape hoodie
My lyrics dope, I got crack for the fiends
He thought he could see me, he imagining things
He ain’t enough cash to come clash with the king
While you boys was sleepin’, I mastered yo’ dreams
I’m swaggin’, I’m saucin’, with fashion I’m clean
I come through with some sh*t that you haven’t seen
You gotta be sick, all you do is ride di*ks
Someone go get this pus*y some vaginal cream
They call me Girbauds, got that strap in my jeans
I’m Abdul Jabbar, cause I’m after Kareem
If he crosses the line, then my bullets flyin’
I’ll give him a 50 like he Zach Lavine
Boy, you just a actor that rap like Hakeem
Don’t make me come down like the wrestler Sting
Take L’s like a knight when I slide like a bishop
I’ll checkmate your king then snatch up your queen
I’m bout to blow like they passed me the green
Just got a new gat, it’s a mac with a beam
My gauge is Fantasia, whenever I sing
Get wet with this pump when I squeeze gasoline
See, when it come down to them bars
b*tch I got a whole buncha’ lotta’ sh*t
You can pay for this knowledge with scholarships
Rap god givin’ hip hop it’s oxygen
They find it astonishing
Every line, he’s been prime like he Optimus
Shine like he polished himself
Had to grind to the top and sh*t
He’s been blessed, he’s the best
He’s like Jordan in ’96
FGE who we rockin’ with
Record labels mad cause he ain’t signin’ sh*t
I thank God that I don’t owe nobody sh*t
Flow with an old soul like a moccasin
Go tell ‘Ye that I’m killin Desiigner’s sh*t
I just bear hugged a panda then bodied it
You irrelevant, you talk a lotta sh*t
You should write a book called “How to Ride a di*k”
Man he fresh, I be on some Big Tymer sh*t
b*tches hope I slide in with my hockey stick
My 40 got 30 inside of it
It got Mr. Miyagi’s karate kick
I’ll blast off, shoot you up like a rocket ship
Bullets bust in yo’ face like you poppin’ zits
With them guns he be clumsy, he droppin’ sh*t
Zip you up like a onesie, I’m poppin’ sh*t
Montana, I’m the Rap God
Every bar’s cold, every line hot
Fire in the Church, sorry for the wait
Had to put the panda in a pine box
Squad!

[Hook: Desiigner]
I got broads in Atlanta
Twistin’ dope, lean, and the Fanta
Credit cards and the scammers
Hittin’ off licks in the bando
Black X6, Phantom
White X6 look like a panda
Goin’ out like I’m Montana
Hundred killas, hundred hammers
Black X6, Phantom
White X6, panda
Pockets swole, Danny
Sellin’ bar, candy
Man I’m the macho like Randy
The choppa go Oscar for Grammy
b*tch n*gga pull up ya panty
Hope you killas understand me

[Bridge]
This what they all been waitin’ for
I guess so
They been waitin’ for this sh*t for a long time didn’t they
I’ma give it everythin’ I got
Ayo Dougie park that X6 around the corner
Ayy I’m just feelin’ my vibe right now
I’m feelin’ myself

[Hook: Desiigner]
I got broads in Atlanta
Twistin’ dope, lean, and the Fanta
Credit cards and the scammers
Hittin’ off licks in the bando
Black X6, Phantom
White X6 look like a panda
Goin’ out like I’m Montana
Hundred killas, hundred hammers
Black X6, Phantom
White X6, panda
Pockets swole, Danny
Sellin’ bar, candy
Man I’m the macho like Randy
The choppa go Oscar for Grammy
b*tch n*gga pull up ya panty
Hope you killas understand me
I got broads in Atlanta
Twistin’ dope, lean, and the Fanta
Credit cards and the scammers
Hittin’ off licks in the bando
Black X6, Phantom
White X6 look like a panda
Goin’ out like I’m Montana
Hundred killas, hundred hammers
Black X6, Phantom
White X6, panda
Pockets swole, Danny
Sellin’ bar, candy
Man I’m the macho like Randy
The choppa go Oscar for Grammy
b*tch n*gga pull up ya panty
Hope you killas understand me

[Outro: Caroline Shaw and (Pastor T.L. Barrett)]
How can I find you?
Who do you turn to?
How do I bind you?
(If I don’t turn to you)
(No other help I know, I stretch my hands)