[Mavi] Man Lost my dawg to the staircase, took the highest spot on the podium Ghostin´ niggas, probably smokin´ to the thought of knowin´ us
They loss a part of growin´ up Spurned us, learned I had to keep a wedge to get out of the rough Fuses clipped for nuisance, disrespect ´cause we carried enough I promised I´d bury the grudge, preparing the carrion grub Larry Oops, I was lost in the alley, in the air but not sunk I spun ´til the lost of my grandmama buried the dunk Send ´bout a prayer a month, through the above Niggas moody but imbued with the funk Better shit to do than play with food The rhyming Rubik´s for fun But I do what I want, ayy And I rue what it was later, a looter as such Confusingly up with paper
I´m shootin´ ones with the judge if he sentence my brother Been with him, muzzled us from the cradle So we goin´ to the grave with this shit If we join the second line The ancestors´ll hand us a drum to load the second time Somethin´ scary ´bout airin´ out the shit I compressed The fare gettin´ fairer now, the cost is An arm, leg, an arm, leg, and a head In all bread, the conquest for text, I´m pawnin´ the rest My Bompton partner spawn when donning the red I´m all on they neck ´til my car park is pardoning French Spar with a few niggas, sparkin´ at the larger percentage
What´s alternate when the losses come as often as wins? And imposter clique thick Don´t got a job, I only ball off pick-six I´m fraught with friction, in July, we had shit lit as Christmas Hollins been sensed niggas been lyin´, but we ain´t gon´ mention Boo hit the stu´ and started sweating´, told her this the kitchen You knew the rules And we knew how to shoot the loopholes, jugo, beaucoup loot And my kin and ´nem got the cannon, you gon´ juke or boogaloo? I been spinnin´ around the answer Non-definitive, I just crammed it Outward gifted, inward feel damned
I took my lumps, my bruises, grooves What the fuck are you to do?
[Earl Sweatshirt] Every time a nigga didn´t spot me I had to figure out my own thing Now we at the precipice droppin´ Harry Potter with the Dub-D´s Magic hands, nigga, what cheese? Had a chance, didn´t crush me We gon´ get it by all means Rest in peace to my Ras G Raw Fruit in the box, seeds Let go, then I got wings I´m seein´ red, I´ma charge You seein´ red ´cause you salty I keep the tears out my mind reach I put my fears in a box like a prayer that you won´t read
Spirited Away the whole thing Peerin´ away, I won´t leave See you starin´ into old beefs Ticket booths where they told me Thickest thorns on the roses Pistons roarin´ like I´m Rasheed Pistons roarin´ like I´m Ben Wallace Pistons roarin´ like Chauncey Fill up somethin´ ´cause I been drivin´ Every time a nigga didn´t spot me I had to figure out my own thing Now we at the precipice droppin´
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💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales