paradise (feat. last degree) - cabalette lyrics
[cabalette]:
keep the knives in my back
cause i’m keeping tabs
all you f*ckers think i’m easy?
when i’m done you won’t be breathing
pulling up on me
that’s your first mistake
all it takes is
1 hot round to the face
feel it’s warm embrace
all you f*ckers think
that your sh*t don’t stink
but you ain’t me so you hate me til your eyes don’t blink
you want my secret?
man, i buy my drip second hand
got my suit from the thrift store
feeling like a gentleman
i know you motherf*ckers sick of me
cause i am the epitome
of all things f*ckin sickening
i’m a filthy little f*ck
so if you wanna f*ckin hate me, then hatе me c*nt
and if you still wanna hate me
thеn you’re sh*t out of luck
707 man we run a*f*ckin*muck
we coming for your b*tches with your bodies in the trunk
make a feast out of you f*ckers yeah we getting blood drunk
so you think you can dance?
i’m a kangaroo on coke man you couldn’t stand a chance
if you think you got one, than you better roll the dice
soon enough you’ll end up in you’re own paradise
[last degree]
oh d*mn, i got a chance to go in ham
got zero context on this track; no regulations, nor a plan
bar this little parched map on the back of my hand
redesign it everyday, i’m onto new directions
need attention
best be running when i get inventing
i vent all this pent up tension
b*tch this brain a weapon
i fire off a shot; it riddles you and your dimension
not to mention, you’re all pests; i’m here for dissection, count your blessing
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knew i’d be the best at running my mouth from a young age
coincidentally that what my job involves every day
get to write, get to fight with myself on a page
lach and ty got a civic who insights war and rage
b*tches gaze at my name on their feed when they lay
under daze, under sheets, in the haze of their brain
i just beat at my meat, got no time in the day
make a beat, rinse repeat, post a meme that’s my play
don’t give a f*ck, i’m doing what i want
know that i make my luck
its that or drugs, excited for either
they both give me that buzz
i’m stacking up, the load makes me tired, but i keep racking up
not lacking gruff, know that i’m inspired when i exact my lus
it takes a bust
and a busta who’s a chump
paying money up front
from a bump by my lump
just so i could get crunked. hit a blunt, jam some funk
with some 40oz an sun, got your mum shaking rump
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