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casper - xelishurt & wavehi lyrics

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[verse 1: wavehi]
baby i’m a thrasher
ghost face turn that shorty into casper
it’s no trace when i left them in the back burn
evaporate it write it off like some tax work
i run it up i did the race till my back hurt
baby you know i had to carry it
in the cemetery see the beat and then i bury it
hop in side my room i did a feature wanna marry it
lately all my prices they been rising i ain’t there yet, no
i just get my bag while you text that hoe
touchdown with a pack like a ex no pole
put me on the track i finesse that flow
read the comment section won’t collab no more
trust, go tell your girl that i’m a buck
went to plant the seed, now they tripping odd the rugs
come play with us
we put the scythe into your guts
and if you fumble when you hit the cypher you get cut
’cause hold up wait a second if you bout to ride this wave sh*t
the devil is my idol
gimme rivals imma face them
black tie events the mac match the bass drop
black matte x6 gonna melt your face off
[verse 2: xelishurt]
danny phantom in this b*tch
i’m going ghost like casper
bend that b*tch up on the table get it till her back hurt
four letters on my fingers that’s my f*ckin gang sir
hammer in my pocket
i’ll pull it like a gangster huh
you’re a w*nkster huh
shooting pellets out the bb and they lookin like some blanks sir
me and wave hi smoking on that green its some dank sir
got some fendi on our brand new designer you wear blank shirts
grabbing on his b*tch i do it like the cranker
hit the gas, k!ll the dash cause
i’m swerving in the lancer
aim the red dot at his feet turn that n*gga to a dancer
got supreme up on that jacket, you steady rocking band shirts
got the bands first
you gonna get the hands first
i’m a haunter in this b*tch place a d*mn curse
sn*tch your d*mn purse
yeah that n*gga ran first
bullets raining down he look a little damper
i’m the fastest, gucci f*ckin glasses
smoke his pack and ill never f*ckin pass this
do the dash b*tch, bandicoot
i’ll crash this come in first cause i never finish last b*tch
i’m counting racks b*tch, you never f*ckin passed six
you turn to ash like i smoked another d*mn cig
check the pants b*tch, roll it over o ricks
real bad shorty and she drop it on the pole b*tch

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