Lyrics:
Feelin' like Kodak 'cause livin' suburban
I keep the shooters like I had the turban
Take out the Maybach, I pull back the curtain
Fuck what you wanted
and the turban fits perfect, word
Puffing' on that precious piff purple herb swerve
Dang, -is on the curve
The fed's walkin' so I'm talking with slurge
And we
on my finger
Nerves of a cheetah, birthed with the urge to walk water
Foul searchin, bi-weekly, all-purpose
Talk verses in dashikis and fly turbans
Enter
Well twirl my turban, man alive
Here comes Mister Five by Five
He's one of those big, fat, bouncin' boys
Solid avoirdupois
Mister Five by Five
these turbans like I'm crazy like an Arab
I ain't never gon' give your ass a shot, you know I hate that
I ain't gon' stop this song, bitch, I don't feel
with your sword raised in a turban
Columbus said: "Oh, Indians"
The return of the prodigal sire accountable
For makin' remarks, remarkable
I hear
para navegar,
al tiempo hay que domarlo
para poder reflexionar.
Turban la paz los que pronuncian
su saber universal
sin captar lo más sencillo:
hay que
round drum, sit inside the Drac', look like an Excursion (skrrt)
Put dog shit on your head, just like a turban, shoot through the curtains (fah-fah)
ponts chagrins
Comme une déclaration de guerre
Aux clichés des ponts parisiens
La dame au turban comme un guide
Et son cortège de pensées
Elle qui disait
Some are wearing turbans
Others getting virgins
With all of these options, we know he’s for certain
‘Cause ain’t no other God like mine
You gots
Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon
I keep it working for certain, close curtains
Renegade bought up a troop when I'm dispursing
That body
vocabulary surging
Rebel with the turban and the street corner sermon
I keep it working for certain, close curtains
Renegade bought up a troop when I'm
for anybody perpin
Leave in a hearse for certain
Blood on the curb and bandages like turbans
We roll a ?durbin?
All in this dirt, puffin the herb an'
we
on my finger
Nerves of a cheetah, birthed with the urge to walk water
Foul searchin, bi-weekly, all-purpose
Talk verses in dashikis and fly turbans
Enter
Clip niggas it's not a game, Star Trak
It's like that, what, check it yo, yo, yo
It's the final curtain
We black masks and black turbans
Lightin' up
the german
The same sergeant that's got the world scared
Of a man in a turban
As long as you lot act the fool
God forgive me if I buss my tool
I'll break any
seven in Rick
(Two sevеn, milli')
All my niggas going stan with the Smith (Bah)
Left out the hood with thе piece
Take a sniff (Uh)
Me and lil' turban done
walked in the building with a turban
I got that money, baby, I deserve it
Everything we do is gettin' so perfect
We up on the charts and
It's gettin' 'em
Clip niggas it's not a game, Star Trak
It's like that, what, check it yo, yo, yo
It's the final curtain
We black masks and black turbans
Lightin' up
choose my own wardrobe
Raw rap suburbanite
I'm fuckin with religion like I didn't wear the turban right
I jerk off in my cereal
You couldn't even fuck with
the turban
Jihad all-star, nice off the bourbon
[Verse 3]
If I got to go to war, then I'm gonna for delf
Get my joint from the top of the shelf and get
a turban
Pull up all black in a suburban
'Cause he ain't die, so we gotta slide back my grill
Pay my young nigga to get you whacked for five figures
They
of his hand
He wore a big ol' turban wrapped around his head
And a scimitar by his side
And, every evenin', about midnight
He'd jump on his camel named
and can't pay your burdens
I smoke herb and rock a turban
Meditate on the world and what's occurrin'
A lot of white boys like the style and copy
Dig in
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