Lyrics:
italique (waow)
Ils ressentent la panique, la mécanique
Des échos comme si j'venais rapper dans les Calanques (waow)
S/o Dubble 6.7, fuck le 17 comme 13
(Trust issues)"
In my words, fuck the stress, I want you at your best (Your best)
The fact you here show you down, I gotta confess (I tell you)
Just let
other words you can shut the fuck up
She say money, hold up, I don't give a fuck
I don't give a fuck, nah, I don't give a fuck
I'm money hungry, I'm
And nothin' but the truth so help your black ass?"
"You Goddamn right!"
"Won't you tell everybody what the fuck you gotta say?"
Fuck the police comin'
And nothin' but the truth so help your black ass?"
"You Goddamn right!"
"Won't you tell everybody what the fuck you gotta say?"
Fuck the police comin'
[background]
Fuck you, fuck you, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccck yooooooooou
(repeats throughout the song)
By this time I see y'all I say
Along
Writing another chapter
In the Archive
There Isn't A Sideline
And when
Tomorrow doesn't
Come for us
Oh No!
Written by Phil Arnold.
I got a house you can come to only on Fridays
I got this old chick I gotta refrain come to my space
She kinda good with a textbook so I don't gotta
Turned Barney's ancestors into carbon back pressure
In the dummies guide to becoming smarter crash testers
I'm not easily blarneyed by artisan crayon
my bed, I'm a smart guy
I ain't fucking with you niggas like apartheid (nah)
Hits on my list, check my archive
I'm something so immaculate
Instead
You heard that uhh that new Loss Daze by by that Kid Bootz
Naw naw mayne I ain't heard that I ain't heard that
Mayne fuck wrong wit you mayne you
no credit, I'm a cash kinda guy
With my stash kinda high, still the girlies pass by
You know why? Cause I'm a Raider of this Lost Art
Played a big
Digital
Rockin' the latest in, every day comin' at niggas
Rockin' the latest in Ben Stillaways
Fuck that, the next big thing, lay this as Hollywood
a god damn
How the fuck can they stand to be around you
God help the poor ears that must surround you
Cos your voice is like daggers in my jugular
love the dark side with horror
Got archives I'm sure
You got hard lives
Missourah is our side
And it's hella depressin' hella a stressin'
The history of touches
Every single archive
Compressed into a second
All with us here as I wake you up
be competin' for my spot (I ain't doin' no competin')
I know my worth, is you gon' be with me or not?
Archive, achieve, please take back me
I've
fuck my car
But bitch who the fuck you think you are, by far
They ain't tripping on me, they wanna fuck my car
Ay C keep yo' eyes open for
'Sace, 'sace
'Knock one, 'knock one
Mustard on the beat, ho
Shirt, shirt by Versace
Bitch you better fuck sumn
Ho, Hoes wanna knock one
Bitch you
day by day
Life would be ecstasy, you and me endlessly . . .
Groovin' . . . on a Sunday afternoon
Really couldn't get away too soon
Ah-ha-ha [3
And you got your daddy and you know who your daddy is don't you?
Fuck that
If you want to play you answer me who's your daddy when I ask you
Who is your
The history of touches
Every single archive
Compressed into a second
All with us here as I wake you up
All I knew was pain
What don't kill you makes you stronger
But my Jesus saves
By His stripes we rise and conquer
Have a little faith
If you wait
I smoke the dodie
Got shooters I ain't totin
Fuck that shit you smoking
Say you got a problem with me
Better be totin
Fuck that shirt you got on
Fuck
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