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OG Hindu Kush
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Grey Alien Suits
Only thing i got for bitches is hard cock and amnesia she blew for the white dot (blue with the white dot) like Bartholomew's sneakers your girl humpin my leg? now you cockblocking my femur yeah you see her- she lying- you do not gotta believe her 'cuz she got prominent features- a whole lot in her t-shirt look so hot in some sneakers- cold rockin adidas poke, gargle and queef her, you know the type that rolls with provocative leeches that's blow-jobbin' your peoples while sayin her tits are real... -but pardon? i see the scarrin and post-operative features -you hoes not gonna see us if me and Osa was reachin, the mic we Quahoggin (co-hogging) like Peter hostin' with Cleveland just play it low like hard bottoms and cellos- Jordan V's is my retros joyridin' the metro... we skippin' steps like bar-hopping with streakers, chart toppin' with demos god honest, i said so, god-body your reefer and since only five percent of y'all cop proper sativa ain't got five on it either- went bankrupt for the leisure since we invested in the Bob Marley center for research for you, she uptight- shouldn't be gossipin' either you got a problem? - Oughta talk to ya leaders- pop lockin with creatures watch ya body parts frost in our freezer it ain't the type of flick that your box office would feature we pickin' pockets- cross-walking with seniors take aim at the youth... 'cause small coffins is cheaper.
shit ain't changed since the days of the stoop and the labels ain't pay to recoup since we spent our advance paper and loot - on Grey Alien Suits and tricked NASA into making the space station a booth Stay caged in a zoo- ball hog with the cleaver stay sharp on the court- play par for the course got an arsenal for war like there's spartans at your door so while death's at your back- we stay stalkin the reaper it's out the ball park to the bleachers we teach em how to pull cards- like Hallmark workers at Easter, son seizures can happen if we keep on rappin' it's not proper procedure to talk back to us either knock knock, let's see if his snot-box is a bleeder cuz you drippin- I ain't missin' no hot sauce in my caesar 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 managed by Richard Branson- we surf the Atlantic feeding the poor and famished, while planning tours to your planet merge with Virgin Galactic, photon your whole song traveled back in time and gave birth to this rap shit foolproof Moon Boots, Bluetooth goon crew George Lucas stormtroopers all useless, who you? we shit on earth, so by liftoff we half as light we orbit in space, playin skip rock with satellites i'm askin nice, no mask and knife don't make us turn your puny planet's afterparties to disaster sites
Spraypaintin ya roof, then i vacate the duluth whole clique yellin sheeeeeit... like Clay Davis' crew if lyrics come after beats, we stack paper for Boots so go 'head, keep claimin y'all fake statements is truth it's back to the basics, milk crates full of tunes stay cavin ya roof, make craters and soufle- you haters is through... our tours are live as a vacay with The Roots so if you catch us at a show, we hi-hater your crew bye, later, get lost... why hate on our flaws? cuz we fly greater than you? use skyscrapers as shoes?, my estate's in space so from the tri-state to the blind face of the moon we high raising the roof, if you rhyme great as my crew we buy spaceships in two's- yo my spaceship's a coupe and mine's spacious and huge - got five acres of room you should try bathe in a pool with some primates in a zoo Rocketman backpacks, we got that like school's in session our tools and weapons, is ski masks for 2-11s (robberies) three channel booster engine, pre-amps, for tube compression so lean back and leave flat like two dimensions can't work the boards? we give freelance computer lessons remix ya cheap hits, and revamp the booth you step in mortgage ya storage, and Re/Max the room you rentin' C-Span for supervillains, recap the news at seven
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