album cover
Dead Prez
album cover
Dead Prez è stato pubblicato il 13 maggio 2016 da Executive Entertainment Corporation come parte dell'album Opulence
13 maggio 2016
EtichettaExecutive Entertainment Corporation
LinguaEnglish
BPM74
Melodicità
Acousticità
Valence
Ballabilità
Energia

Testi

[Verse 1]
While other’s spit that "Wonderama" shit, me and my conglomerate
Want Billboard prominence, instill more dominance
Y'all still making common cents, that ain't making common sense
Heez, I’ll knock her walls down
You be making minor dents!
Man I'm intense
Not from Bed-Stuy but I'm the livest one
Boomer like Esiason
I am the Messiah’s son, the flyest one
Always on the road, like I own the globe
Wifey scared our pockets won't be straight, she's such a homophobe
She know how I like it, coochie wet deep throat
Tom Ford suits, Woo, Gucci leather pea coats
Know a bunch of villains made a killing off a ski slopes
Sit back and admire, I'm Mariah with the C-notes
Good cigars and Pinot, a **** really hustle
Mogul with a logo, Jigga, Diddy, Russell (Woo)
Ain't like the cards they dealt me, so my deck is newly shuffled
I got bags under my eyes, shit I bet they Louis duffle
I like butter with my truffle
She can't keep her hands off
Pull up in that Range, don't need no chains to take her pants off
Big dough or little dough, deep dish or hand tossed
Episode of Luther, every shooter in that Van Draws
Love my Southern Drawl,
Said she love my twang ****,
Alexander, Vera
Said she love my Wang ****, (yes sir)
The kid chasing after billies like a baby goat
I'm tryna get a Bill-a-check, Tom Brady coach
(Hey, and if she crazy dope I’ll give her 80 strokes) Haaaaaaa
[Chorus]
Yeah!
Hey, Fuck bitches (Fuck bitches), get money (get money)
Fuck bitches (Fuck bitches), get money (get money)
Fuck bitches (Fuck bitches), get money (get money)
Fuck bitches (Fuck bitches), get money (get money)
(Listen, so sick of ****, sayin'...)
[Verse 2]
I want money like Cosby, who wouldn't?
But it's the kind of talk to make me think you probably ain't got no puddin’
Then adolescent dreams can easily turn stressful
Mad depressive schemes, scream you had a lesson as the Wesson gleams (Bow!)
If every **** from your team is rich, you brothers rugged
No one should fall 'cause everyone should be each other's crutches
(Yes sir), split the dutches with Atlanta on the brim, ****
Shit, all my guys-pull, I am him ****!
You see these new Atlanta cats actin' like they handle packs
All of these random acts, talkin' like they handle racks (but)
When I see 'em in the streets, I don't see nanna that
(Nope), damn, Playboy, where the fuck is the Phantom at? (What?!?!?!?)
Where is all this ice with all that platinum bandaged at?
Those ain't Rolex diamonds, how the fuck did you manage that?
And it’s a fact that my dough straight, I’m getting to the plaques, Call me Colgate,
Still spending money from ’08,
Don’t hate my pockets so straight
Yeah!
[Outro]
Hey, Fuck bitches (Fuck bitches), get money (get money)
Fuck bitches (Fuck bitches), get money (get money)
Fuck bitches (Fuck bitches), get money (get money)
Fuck bitches (Fuck bitches), get money (get money)
Written by: Marcus Vicks
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