human
Write me a song called Blocka La Flame (Demo) with the following description: “Blocka La Flame” appears on Travis Scott’s debut 2013 mixtape, Owl Pharaoh. This is an early version of the track that leaked online on October 8, 2019.
This demo of the track contains lots of differing lyrics from the final release, no Popcaan sample and no production from Mike Dean. An “Ill America” tag that was present in Travis' earlier work can be hear; as such, it’s likely that this was one of the earliest drafts of the song created in 2012. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
gpt
[Intro]
Young Chop on the beat
[Chorus]
I got diamonds on my blocka, serve it to my flocka
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh), to my flocka (Ooh-ooh)
Pray to Lord on my shotta, she be proper (Agh, agh)
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)
[Verse 1]
Paint this, Basquiat, [?] on my banger
On that Bay side of the [?], trippin' offa my manga
Fuck, fuck, fuck, might lose your soul for my language
They want my chain, suicide make a bitch bang, bang
Double-X, nigga, this the chain gang
Salute the nigga, I might troop the nigga
Shoeshine a nigga when I'm walkin', man
A nigga drive around, man, I roof the nigga
Fifteen when I carried loads of them Oziums
And them bag of nicks, I mean groceries
I mean daddy knows ain't no controlling me
My bad, my niggas gon' sag
She give me head before the ass and never let no nigga smash
No puffin', no pass
We breakin' everything in half, thank you for making it last
Get everythin' that you got
Break me a piece of that off, rest in peace niggas I lost [Chorus]
I got diamonds on my blocka, serve it to my flocka
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh), to my flocka (Ooh-ooh)
Pray to Lord on my shotta, she be proper (Agh, agh)
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh)
[Verse 2]
Thank God, threw that nigga in the bay, ayy
Bang, bang, bang, fuck it, maintain
Thinkin' 'bout stickyin' your girl face
Sip Merlot, watch us make the champagne rain
Let my ding-a-lang hang
I'm a southside nigga where the 'caine reign
We runnin', summers, we runnin'
Niggas never get no lovin'
Keep that shit pumpin', pumpin' outside of the club, and
When I pull up, we be stuntin'
Bitches I call fall through in dozens
Niggas at home won't leave me 'lone, niggas be buggin'
Through the cellphone, I hear home
Ain't that a bitch, that bitch frontin'
We used to talk, think how she leftin' me out
Thinkin' 'bout it make me vomit
Pow, pow, that bluff of that chain
Hallelujah to the Lord, pourin' champagne all over that paint [Chorus]
I got diamonds on my blocka, serve it to my flocka
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh), to my flocka (Ooh-ooh)
Pray to Lord on my shotta, she be proper (Agh, agh)
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh-ooh, ill America baby, ooh-ooh)