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gustavo - bus 16 lyrics

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[verse 1: luca serrano]
all these chill beats
i’m popping’ off like pippen
top dog and we all eat
my job is always messy
i kick it like i’m messi
writing whack rhymes but who really checking?
i’m on time, my mans and i’m never lacking
behind me i’m cl!ck-clacking and roaring if you try me
never lying, it’s a [?] to think about other kiddos crying
honestly you play monopoly but fake the money that you flex
i might be back on the new sh-t, [?] hate with a check
rapping trendy for soph0m-res who [?] trap beats and mine are
intellect, i made this for fun a motherf-cker wanna interject
this an encore, and i freeze you with the subtle flex

[verse 2: genesis]
y’all really thought, i was really gone
but i was busy in the studio, making this song
try to intimidate the rest with your childish comment
lying to the game, you ain’t from the projects
how am i supposed to grow if i don’t pick up the slack?
if i send it to you, i expect you hit me back
i can’t think straight, when i’m talking to you
i tend to get off track, aw sh-t i did it again
putting out work but we don’t care about your whack sh-t
projecting blessing that you lie about in your captions
work more, talk less, you’re out to get me
but i told you thirty times, i’m in this b-tch for eternity
not a day goes by where i’m not a [?]
one thing leading to another, b-tterfly effect
guess it’s time for me, to be myself
knowing that you’re off talking to someone else

[interlude: nikola]
just another youngin’ who can’t go to the mall sat-rdays and sundays

[verse 3: nikola]
sat-rdays and sundays used to be my fun days
sitting back in the food court eating frito lays
go to hot topic seeing f-gs in skinny jeans
that used to be me til’ my third eye shot it’s beams
catch me kick-flipping off this f-cking track
catch me popping pills to get the acne off my back
bus 16, bheg you can’t ride with us
bheg, hop the f-ck up off my nuts
wokest group in all of cp
check us ascending, eye’s three
with the 666 carved into my rib-cage
pelted with tomatoes like, “get off the stage!”
dyk-s like girls who believe in the wage gap
f-gs get reeled in like mice to a mouse trap
retired from swim, b-tch i burned that sh-tty cap
that’s the end for cracker’s verse call it up a wrap

[verse 4: ml2]
atomic with the words of the kicks on hiroshima script
9000 slurs when i spit, on some vegeta sh-t
greatest mc in the p, crown on my lid
the bus living big, making hits ’til we on the grid
thrash [?] decorated as a christ tree
grammy and a plaque, oxycontin went platinum twice, see
bus 16, condom f-cking on your wifey
topping charts faster than a bolt of f-cking lightning
but sometimes i think without a bus where would i be?
chilling in cl-ss, flipping packs for a light fee?
or maybe hitting vapes with the f-gs in the bathroom?
or smoking cannabis double-cross through a gl-ss tube?
gotta question, do hoes know how to read?
cause i don’t mess with h-rny chicks or flip her nudes for the needs
f-ck a snap story or stupid hoes that proceed
i guess i don’t like spray tans and artificial barbies
so this one is dedicated to doritos like cheese
or maybe to the raccoon with an std
i’m just observing things around me, spanish one and my chem
but any naked eye can see that a hoe needs condemned

[outro]
hop up on the bus b-tch

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