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casino - crimeapple & big ghost ltd lyrics

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[verse 1: vick spencer]
guzzled a liter of propane, one reach, i will k!ll, i play no games
i know things, my flow change like my clothes hang, i fold trains, n*gga vick spencer’s old man, i spit crime and eat apple
can’t find the evidence, evidently, i beat battles
i’m a record hit, the wave hit me like levy
the spanish rice was seeded, i’m weeded
my life deadly

[verse 2:daniel son]
they on the sideline, i’m leaning off the firewire sampler
couple white lines will make your girl a high times dancer
clean the ivory since how i refine my answers
you can find me on the corner, crime time standards
i cause a foot pursuit just to train the fitness
the chef is cuban italian, cookin’ my favorite dishes
filetin fishes, dope, sick, cook or throw up right beside my f*ckin’ kicks
life’s just a game of inches

[verse 3: crimeapple]
we clinched the division, make you envision your nose against a biscuit
i’m sellin’ bisquick, also got some chips, i’m talkin’ sl!ck sh*t
a tidbit for instance, i infringe on a synth, don’t make me get specific, you dried up a v, i bring vitamin d to a chick with rickets, i’m mainly focused on the digits, tryna sit with triscuits
sell a ton of perico, then go survive from a distance
any rapper beckon and he smoked and i comply with his wishes, labels will put you on the shelf, i’m just tryin’ to dishes

[verse 4: vick spencer]
not social and i’m not local, i got vocals, at the chop shop with the tofu
feed it to my bougie pits for ruby and bricks
there’s no beach, no bunny in the news, send me pics
ay, vic is the sh*t, the toilet disagree, uppercut the kangaroo since 1993
n*gga, i shoot stranger things, the apple on your head
i’ma still aim it brains
[verse 5:daniel son]
i want that brown bag money, a lot of these rappin’s after shot, we laughed them twice and only been runnin’ half the time
you lookin’ in the eyes of some masterminds, don’t deal with consignment a load of that cash’s mine
read the lips, poker face, casino trips, pinot grigio smokin’, watchin’ korean fl!cks, buckets ringin’ down the phone cause they need a fix
they said your sh*t look like some crushed jalapeno chips

[verse 6: crimeapple]
keep a lot of gas, not the kind that be no fix
a sucker say my name and probably couldn’t be no diss
i mean did the alligator feel a thing when the mosquito bit
don’t play yourself, ace ventura, dan marino sh*t
keep in mind this tiktok no ray finkel sh*t
i start to screw face with no haste, just show me where the wrinkles is
gearts with kool*aid palpitating, i don’t really deal with frutos , although i got the hugo , me and a [dollar must can noodle??]

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