bludini - moe carter lyrics
(intro)
my name’s penny, i think people shouldn’t do drugs
(moe carter) “wait… drugs are bad… kids)
(guy voice) drugs are bad, i don’t do drugs
(verse 1)
now you see me, now that you don’t
a billion light years with my back to the comp’
soon crown him king with a castle and moat
you knowing they will but hoping they don’t
not typical trappin’ dope rappin’ and boast
got stones of more value to p-ss to my folks
slay thoughts, resurrect outta lazarus smoke
they always doubt zeus till he flash em’ a bolt
ain’t beneficial, they artificial, as starter pistols
play sidelines then they wanna do the honors with you
think fame drop overnight out the solar system
give you 2 cents and not a dollar to support the mission
so what’cha call that? a flipped image of a comrade
i smell kitty where ya dogs at?
my fist spring p-ssy fall back…
these punchlines on bob sapp, catch contact
and take down all strong facts with cognac
my g*nius go to sleep rockin’ a thought cap
f-ck fame, don’t even care bout what’cha hall stats
looking like putting them contracts on wall plagues
hung from the lips for prolonging small chat
can’t take it back 4 door lac’s with 4 flats
step in your office like john kras’ where boss at?
don’t talk to workers in contrast of small tasks
you motherf-ckers be door mats for dog cr-p
do my work never look far-fetched in hard hats
kevlar vest so regardless i guard chest
hit the blunt like it’s a target for hard slaps
beyond stressed my palm rest on arm rest
invade the world my conquests beyond vexed
sending shots you can’t hard check or contest
ring-ring-ring! you can’t voicemail or callback
(intermission)
i stand before my highest mountain…
and before my longest journey…
and therefore… must i descend…
deeper, than i ever before descended…
now
(verse 2)
at my limit in a rented
swig fidditch play quidditch
dread n-gg-s like lennox
jab lenses off hinges
drunk/sober if it’s off the mental then i meant it
b-tthurt n-gg-s save your pickets for defenses
miss me with the racket f-ck with wimbledon for tennis
hood just tight i had to switch up on the engine
sweet, sweet st–z can’t be rented for a gimmick
sideline watch me with your “philip” or your “pi’get”
your squad’ll catch hands like you riffing with the pistons
whole soul glow no jheri juice or spritzing
sell the game playa’ if it’s written it’s forbidden
if it ain’t lit, n-gg- kick it out the kitchen
if it ain’t swede, b-tch p-ssing on your linen
doc satin, got st-tching for the snitching
cut em’ off quick i’ll clip em’ in a griffin
slipped i meant a minute, smashing like a guinness
record breaking finish, you n-gg-s exhibition
out here like split end…
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