[Verse 1: Wrekonize]
Wrapped in XLR cables
Up from my whiskers, down to my fuckin' kicks
Wreck-O was echoed in Gordon Geckos, you suckin' dick
Nobody be askin' me for secrets, I ain't chuckin' tips
I'd rather be bumpin' hips on that ratchet with muffin tits
Tore up the limits from Britain visions would rock their lives
Inside a prison where giddy bitches don't jock the rhyme
Born with precision and rhythm spittin' could swat a fly
For them to just kick a single shillings from Spotify
Bye, Bye killers, on a high five business
Gonna ride by the sickest in your high ride to the hitlist
If we ain't spoke in ages then miss me with broken favors
You Miley Cyrus to majors, you twerkin' on swollen razors (run now)
Don't make me come to dinner, nail your tongue down
And have you plead your case to us in Strangeland at sundown
Be careful of the biz cause everything has got a price attached
Wake up with a horse head in your bed and next your life is snatched
[Verse 2: Bernz]
Tank full of petrol, bank full of pesos
Pool on my tour bus, bonus on a payroll
Feel like I be killin' it, famous on the internet
Really I'm just wingin' it, cookin' shit on my kitchenette
Life so good right now, I need to celebrate!
Bout to sell a stadium out and turn it into rave!
Look at how the industry norm has started lookin' Strange
All my brothers riding the storm while they just ride the wave
Caviar wishes, bitches for my bitches
Black shades and hoodies and spots and white linens
Feel like Sam Kinison, preachin' to the citizens
Screamin' at the saints, "You ain't ever gonna get rid of us!"
Guessin' I just cleaned my plate so now I'm gettin' cake
Speedin' down the interstate, yellin' "Get out the fuckin' way"
We plant flags in the ground because we here to stand
I bring my whole hood out and have my own parade
Wrapped in XLR cables
Up from my whiskers, down to my fuckin' kicks
Wreck-O was echoed in Gordon Geckos, you suckin' dick
Nobody be askin' me for secrets, I ain't chuckin' tips
I'd rather be bumpin' hips on that ratchet with muffin tits
Tore up the limits from Britain visions would rock their lives
Inside a prison where giddy bitches don't jock the rhyme
Born with precision and rhythm spittin' could swat a fly
For them to just kick a single shillings from Spotify
Bye, Bye killers, on a high five business
Gonna ride by the sickest in your high ride to the hitlist
If we ain't spoke in ages then miss me with broken favors
You Miley Cyrus to majors, you twerkin' on swollen razors (run now)
Don't make me come to dinner, nail your tongue down
And have you plead your case to us in Strangeland at sundown
Be careful of the biz cause everything has got a price attached
Wake up with a horse head in your bed and next your life is snatched
[Verse 2: Bernz]
Tank full of petrol, bank full of pesos
Pool on my tour bus, bonus on a payroll
Feel like I be killin' it, famous on the internet
Really I'm just wingin' it, cookin' shit on my kitchenette
Life so good right now, I need to celebrate!
Bout to sell a stadium out and turn it into rave!
Look at how the industry norm has started lookin' Strange
All my brothers riding the storm while they just ride the wave
Caviar wishes, bitches for my bitches
Black shades and hoodies and spots and white linens
Feel like Sam Kinison, preachin' to the citizens
Screamin' at the saints, "You ain't ever gonna get rid of us!"
Guessin' I just cleaned my plate so now I'm gettin' cake
Speedin' down the interstate, yellin' "Get out the fuckin' way"
We plant flags in the ground because we here to stand
I bring my whole hood out and have my own parade
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!