[Intro] Calling to the coach Let me know where it is talk to them [Verse 1] Ready on three Please pour me perry Skeptics in the residence like uh What the hell he ya Im on that new wave. hell yea Its like the water from the waterboard Now comparing to heavy on the puberty is not comparable The taste of it is terrible I sip the nectar of the Gods And now im writing records with the gods Antisocial but the pocket full of dead friends And the peanut butter goes inside of the red benz And my purata momma causing accidents Earthquakes, meteor strikes volcanoes, eruptions and air spins As a mastermind in my DNA I dont got no time for no VMA Mix the Y with the EMG and its time for some TNA Cause i grind til i see the day i expire Blaze fire No days off just just asking yulo Great rides drink live in a glass full of Rap cooler, and i jab like zab trooger Be down for the count like Dracula Im a fool for the cash mad mula I cant put my finger on it, thats lula Pull up with that foreign , a black bulla Oh lord kakala Hallelujah Gt a gold digging bitch who wanting diamonds and purses Got my head in the clouds she got her hand in my pocket I gave her an habitual criminal stare She text me, not proceeding down invisible stairs The rap game is full with pitiful imbeciles who dare Remember was it fictional fear? So i trip before i kick in the stairs Spittin medical peers Smoking medicinal like im living in the biblical years Jesus! [Music] We Out here you, shit i Hope you live a hundred years [Verse 2] I been a boystar call me Stop at the indian spa order a bag of good shit Shout out to Roger he just street talking shit Number 23 dropping that swoosh Cowards wanna get loud with me Anytime brother That shit not gonna fly with me Do not civilize or criticize or hate But i got grass i rather emphasize the great Enterprise is grey, dim the lights grey Play the indian flute i can hypnotize a snake You a bastard cant say we serve ya I gravitate universal [Indian Music]
indian, stair, purata, kakala, boystar