Mystery Feat. Rude

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Inky

Born Sharn Forrest July 21st , in Jamaica. known professionally as Inky, is a Caribbean rapper, songwriter and record producer who moved to the island of St.Maarten as a young child where he began pursuing music at the age of 14. He was initially known to the public eye as " Young S " which was his first stage name ever created. Over the years, Inky began to realize that music was the career of choice and he wanted to pursue his music further. Inky has been featured and collaborated on numerous tracks with some of the local musicians/rappers on the island of St. Maarten and natives of New York. Now more mature and also being a father, Inky has began to pursue his solo career more seriously. His dropped music has all proudly been published independently under his label, Ink Gang. Ink Gang is Ultra-modern, bass heavy full of lyricism, and Good melodies label. The tracks showcase the full potential of Inky as a Hip-Hop Superstar. Inky is a studio Powerhouse that spends hours in the studio who is focused on perfecting his craft, and bringing good content to the world, the industry and most importantly his fans.

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Year:

2019

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[Intro: Rude]
Brrrrt

Got Inky with me man top shotta
You know wtf going on man

Ya

Almane Lo on this track


Aye-aye-aye-aye-aye-OKAY !

[Chorus: Rude]
I’m getting this money I love it
I shit on these niggas in public
They said that ball but they ball on a budget
You ain’t talking bout money that’s a end of discussion
Ak it was made from Russia, close casket when them hallows touch ya
I told you these killers ain’t playing bout me
Close casket that’s a mystery, mystery (Okay)
I’m tryna make me a million, I struggle to get it
No time for Netflix and chilling
Bitch get the f*ck out ya feelings
I’m sick of these women
They always got an opinion
I’m feeling I might pour a act today
It’s on me if you try to act today
Riding round all day I’m just tryna get paid
I can’t let these niggas get in my way (get in my way)


[Verse 1: Inky]
It ain’t no mystery I’m getting this money
I changed up my wardrobe
I Never been bummy
My choppa from Russia
My plug from the country
They free my big brother my family lucky
I tatted my body these bitches em love it
Ink gang the team bitch yeah I run it
If I call bug he going come running
F*ck these new rappers these niggas is pussies
I’m from St. Maarten these niggas be hatin’
Bruh f*ck all this fame just give me the money
Y’all niggas be lying, y’all niggas be cap (cap!)
Zay told me get it so I went and got it
I flooded the block gave my momma the profit (for real)
Free my nigga Zay he in jail with that rocket
I was saved by the Glock 9 (Glock 9)
I was young when I started wrapping Popeyes
F*ck nigga want beef aight wassup now
Never trust no hoe lying bitch
Push up with the poll 30 clip
Stand over the stove..whip my wrist
Fishscale out the lot, f*ck 12 I won’t stop (f*ck 12)
F*ck the rap game...ion care if I pop
You don’t want no beef got the pin on your spot
You don’t want no beef got the pin on your spot

[Chorus: Rude]
I’m getting this money I love it
I shit on these niggas in public
They said that ball but they ball on a budget
You ain’t talking bout money that’s a end of discussion
Ak it was made from Russia, close casket when them hallows touch ya
I told you these killers ain’t playing bout me
Close casket that’s a mystery, mystery (Okay)
I’m tryna make me a million, I struggle to get it
No time for Netflix and chilling
Bitch get the f*ck out ya feelings
I’m sick of these women
They always got an opinion
I’m feeling I might pout a act today
It’s on me if you try to act today
Riding round all day I’m just tryna get paid
I can’t let these niggas get in my way (get in my way)

[Verse 2: Rude]
I hop the bed now let’s get it
My nigga got book for a murder but case got acquitted
Oh no I can’t fall on my pivot
These niggas be talking that life, but they really don’t live it
I’m trying to ball like the pistons
I walk in the trap bitch I’m Gordon Ramsay with the kitchen
My nigga got caught with the biscuit
3rd strike so they ship his ass off to prison
I got the gas like the Texaco
Inky my brother, you try him I let it go
All my niggas is eating no Papados
If she ain’t fucking or sucking she gotta go
Baby I just want the wealth, f*ck the fame
F*ck nigga better stay in his lane
Guns pop like fresh champagne
You know Rude do the got damn thang
The shooters, they shoot for the free (For the free)
These niggas be hating but just know I peep
Try me, you with deceased (You with deceased)
This 40 on me, you ain’t taking from me (you ain’t talking from me)
Designer I’m fly as can be (whaaaaaat!)
I told that lil bitch, it’s more fish in the sea
John wick with the fifth and take you off your feet
These niggas ain’t fucking with me (giving with me)
It’s Rude

[Chorus: Rude]
I’m getting this money I love it
I shit on these niggas in public
They said that ball but they ball on a budget
You ain’t talking bout money that’s a end of discussion
Ak it was made from Russia, close casket when them hallows touch ya
I told you these killers ain’t playing bout me
Close casket that’s a mystery, mystery (Okay)
I’m tryna make me a million, I struggle to get it
No time for Netflix and chilling
Bitch get the f*ck out ya feelings
I’m sick of these women
They always got an opinion
I’m feeling I might pout a act today
It’s on me if you try to act today
Riding round all day I’m just tryna get paid
I can’t let these niggas get in my way (get in my way)

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