album cover
Relocate 2
album cover
Relocate 2 werd uitgebracht op 3 maart 2023 door Kasher Quon Music als onderdeel van het album Relocate 2 - Single
3 maart 2023
LabelKasher Quon Music
TaalEnglish
BPM122
Melodische kwaliteit
Akoestiek
Valence
Dansbaarheid
Energie

Muziekvideo

Muziekvideo

Songteksten

Oh yeah, Chris
A label offered me two fifty, I just turned it down
Ran off on the plug, gave him the runaround
I was in Miami for a minute, back in Michigan now
All across the world, everybody's stealin' Michigan sound
It's either Flint or Detroit
You ain't got a band, but wanna beef with me, boy
I'm finna go and fuck this **** bitch, keep tellin' she hopeless
I had to drop out of school and scam 'cause I ain't have a choice
Been in my own lane with this new wave, they fuckin' with you, boy
I can blow a band every day, it's nothin' to your boy
I make five thousand every day
Little or a big amount, still on every play
Forty-five thousand dollars is what bro presi' say
But that shit motivation to me, I'ma get me one
Told the bitch, "I'm finna drop you off where I picked you up at"
Never trust these hoes, told my bitch I'm already up one
**** clothes is a hundred thousand, already up one
These Backwoods still than a bitch, fuck I bought these blunts for?
All these fuckin' zaz' in the room, fuck I'm passin' the blunt for?
You ain't gotta buy, you can have it, roll your own, bro
You wanna be like me, I'mma call 'em "Kasher Clone" though
That shit so played, "The fuck you flashin' Vlone for?"
He tryna show the V on the back
All that **** do is cap, put a C on his hat
My weed man sold me some fire, but it's a seed in the pack
If you know, then you know, sometimes it be like that
Bitch said, "Kasher, why you pullin' my weave like that?"
I don't scam **** no more, if I did, you can have your money back
I don't need no fuckin' sex pill or no honey pack
I'll pull up off a Perc and break a bitch back
She like, "That's you outside in a Scat?"
I said, "Nah, you got me fucked up, bitch, this a Track"
I pulled up in a Hawk on 'em
Sippin' all that green, you gon' turn into the Hulk, homie
I need a thousand to get on your song, that's what it cost, bro
I ain't never hated on ****, I know my time comin'
Been doin' this shit for nine summers
Bitch said : "Can I text you?" Gave her nine numbers
I ain't thinkin' bout no bitch, I want a bank, I'm tryna try sum'
In Walmart with this fake card like I'm tryna buy sum'
Seen a broke-ass **** in the mall, but he buy nothin'
Boy, your spot dry than a bitch, stop sayin' that bitch jumpin'
**** ain't pullin' up to buy no weed, no Percs, nothin'
I'm the meal ticket out the hood, why would I murk something?
I'd have somebody do it for me
Bitch said, "You need to clean your house", told her, "Come do it for me"
I ain't never runnin' out of money
Bad white bitch, I call that lil' ho my snowbunny
They was laughin' at my method, now they wanna buy off me
Don't care about your fake, this new sauce ain't for sale, buddy
Soon as I walked in the room, all the bitches just smell money
I got fifty thousand in my room, I put that on my mama
Tired of everybody keep sayin', "We want the old Kasher"
But the new Kasher don't even know the old Kasher
Bitch just asked me to hold somethin', gave her the wrong answer
Told my engineer, "Leave it plain", fuck a mix and master
I don't scam people, I scam banks, we in a different chapter
Bitch said Kasher Quon broke, I bust out laughin'
You lil' **** got me fucked up
When y'all was lookin' up to me, I been had fifty bucks
Been doin' this shit for everybody, so I don't give a fuck
Don't sip lean no more, but when I did, everyday it was a must
Woke up on a Monday and made five bucks
That ain't really shit, my ****, that was one Chase
I'm finna pull up and fuck your bitch while she on break
She keep tellin' me she like me and I'm her soulmate
(Ha, ha, come on)
I'm finna slide in a SRT with them one breaks
I've been rappin' for ten years, I ain't took not one break
I know I'ma make it one day
I been scammin' online **** since MySpace
Broke up with my bitch and I told her I need my space
I ain't tryna argue or fight you, get out of my face
Made twenty in a week, this shit gettin' cray-cray
I'm really up fifty thousand, no play-play
Oh yeah, Chris
Written by: Marquon Fulton
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