lost it - nate case lyrics
(nate case)
man i f*ckin lost it in quarantine you gossip
a faucet i’m dripping off looking like i criss to cross often
you soften, used to be f*cking hard til you got f*cking scarred hawth*rn
ha*ha looking like i gotcha
looking like i f*cking wanna k!ll you with sriracha
oh my god you nada
oh my god i thought of
thought of me a prodigy i’m looking like you gotta be
hold up i’m the best f*cking rapper in the county
i been the best you been around me
i been best when i was drowsy
i been looking like you been back
i been looking like you doubted
hold up when i fouled it
hold up guess who found it
i’m the one who did it first i’m the who did it best
you’re the one who did it worse you’re the one who didn’t rest
my god, i f*cking jacked off, i f*cking slacked off
and i’m still the f*cking best
man i f*cking lost it you looking like you caught this
bar over your head and it got you feeling nauseous
got me feeling cautious
looking like i fought this b*tch
but i still talk this sh*t
and they knocking while i’m knocking cuz i knock knock
looking like a ha*ha
what you wanna f*ck with me but i karate chop ya
cuz you wanna get ja
but you looking like i’m looking like i’m looking like iracha
man i f*cking lost it i’m going way to boston
i’m running in the relay what you delay when it’s awesome
i don’t need a faucet i need a f*cking sponsor
what you f*cking cost him i need a way gone sir
need way fonder i been way over yonder
looking like bithanya i do this sh*t first donda
need a f*cking sponsor need a f*cking posse
looking like i when a f*cker do it with a ha*ha
(ca$his)
what i look like i ain’t no motherf*ckin’ b*tch i’m a slide
if it’s fire, i’m a ride to that hit, now what i look like
i keep a glock with a switch and smoke a ounce a day
till they head so it’s lit, yes from drive*bys and walk*ups
to sidewalks chalked up, steppin’ over bodies
i’m glad they never caught us, i’m just bein’ honest
i’m slaughterin’ my opponents, turn benzino to femzino
smoked him, i line bars with rhyme style, i shine street
i grind hard and use beats like they cleats
two four fives on me, that’s siamese
i smoke rat packs of g’s like fire weed
raised a finger in the middle, bankin’ since i was a little
demonstratin’ heavy weight, legend on the instrumental
capo got it locked, i’m shuttin’ down the block
oh, suckas, get outta line, get lined up and pop folk
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