smak - rappertag #13 | season 2 - smak (au) lyrics
[intro]
yeah
let’s do this
oi
smak, yeah, look
[verse]
hey, shout out rates for the tag
i’m goin’ for the ace, but i don’t know how to act
i’m the nick kyrgios of australian rap
greek kid, temper tantrum, throwin’ plates in the back
make ’em put they hands up like i’m servin’ these b*lls
but i’m sellin’ cds, puttin’ smak in their drawers
yeah, i’ll put some smak in your life, son
we done so much dirt you couldn’t vac’ with a dyson
k!lled the game, sneaky c*nt with the [?]
like walter white did, now i’m back, cookin’ my sh*t
put in the work, drop in the seasonin’ and let it sit
dopest rappertag of thе season, brother, let it sit
and what’s thе point of rappin’ if you ain’t a c*cky pr*ck
they try to copy this, well, i let ’em, ’cause i got lots to give
if not for this, i’ll be p*ssed, washin’ dishes for a pot to p*ss in
anyways, i’m bored of this beat, let me switch it
yeah, we never started from the pole position
tryna swerve around the ranks, but i felt resistance
put my foot up on the gas, tried to stay consistent
took a couple p*ss stops and blew a couple pistons
yeah, they really thought they’d go to distance
but we kept ’em in the corner, ali to sonny liston
drop a couple hooks, keep it real, no fishin’
but i’m throwin’ out these lines hopin’ i could bring it in
like barry, that ain’t livin’
make their death jam, like the name was russell simmons
hits like the twelfth man, but i ain’t play cricket
knockin’ for a six when i’m battin’ in my innings
i’ll be tappin’ in and winnin’ like we matt and jeff hardy
feel like pop smoke, baby, welcome to the party
they say that i’m a joke, feelin’ sort of kevin hart*y
but i know i’ll be a goat, boy, i’m just gettin’ started
i’ve been reppin’ no.one, best know it, ’cause we know it, ’cause we gonna blow up
the team, we hold it down, constriction just like a boa
from brisbane straight down to tweed, nate g to ecb
to dons from by the sea, yeah, you know what i mean, right?
yeah, you know what i mean, right?
feel like pourin’ something, way i made ’em all lean right
want my meat juicy, baby, do not serve it lean, a’ight?
jack of all trades, yeah, you know i made the beat, right?
sippin’ on mimosa while i’m chillin’ out, beachside
sunburn on my back, better hope she got the cream right
rappers sell their soul’s on some red light, green light
we stayin’ independent like skaters up on a sweet grind
huh, yeah, i done been high
420, all round, motherf*ckin’ meat pie, huh
never comin’ down like a jean fly
p*ssin’ on rappers since the boy been knee high
[outro]
yeah
three beats produced by me
yo, kogz, you’re up next
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