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Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
RATKING
RATKING
Performer
Eric Adiele
Eric Adiele
Performer
Hakeem Lewis
Hakeem Lewis
Performer
Patrick Morales
Patrick Morales
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Eric Adiele
Eric Adiele
Composer
Hakeem Lewis
Hakeem Lewis
Songwriter
Patrick Morales
Patrick Morales
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Eric Adiele
Eric Adiele
Producer
Rodaidh McDonald
Rodaidh McDonald
Mixing Engineer

Letra

I gotcha eyes glued open You got a eye itch, you wanna blink What you think? That ain't a wise pick That's why my friends only got like three guys left And only got like three five cents You wanna blow my head off? Be my guest Breathe out my soul, I give you cold and you can see my breath On some next shit, you should see my debt Take the train everyday it's like a break from the pain Subway cars keep my heart at bay Single ride paid, they start to raise I go under, I gotta tell you I ain't got the change I got a boy play ball, he go hard in the paint I got another that write, he go hard with the paint All this shit got me startin' to deck, startin' to drink Gulp, gulp, startin' to stink A drunk mutt, that's my pedigree, it's meant to be Hennessy's the only thing that's friendly to me I'm straight New York, what a lot of y'all pretending to be The cash will feel the cuts eventually Smoke the blunts consecutively Fuck dogs disrespecting to me Explain the words so we can let it just be Yeah baby, let it just be I let the evil enter my soul to get that legal tender Taking that tender illegal pooty, seeing splendor Too much into my mind, no time for Jesus' agenda Beating my dick's the only way of beating my temper I just leave it to pleasure to relieve all my pressure I'm just a shitty toy, can't put the pieces together Check, check, just a shitty toy Niggas gotta peep the way I speak I hit my peak, hittin' L's 'til I sleep Sippin' 40's 'til shorties forget that Wiki's sweet Kicked out the crib, roam the city streets Think I'm pretty weak cause I've seen some shitty weeks It's about time Wiki speaks It's about time Wiki freaks I'm just tryin' to spit, can I, can I, can I? Damn I feel like Jay-Z in '96 Man I feel like ODB in '93 Am I even an '04 Ye? Girlies ain't my forte's in 40's for days All day find me walkin' down Broadway Broads hate on my broad ways Everything I do they call fake Everything I do don't they call fate Pause, wait, chill Me, myself, and I go in on everything that the God makes But God's fake, I gotta say I caught a break If hell was real, I'd be on my way I don't bag bitches, I drag bitches and bag critics Tire mark and then spit it Smack any pin head that give me a damn ticket Get it? See wrecks in every C section's C section Any bitch that seems pregnant Just a teen getting Some shit out his head and Some shit out his chest And his face, ugh, pop pimples Clumsy kid, drop cymbals Drop symbols every time I got a pencil Every time I rock simple, sling shot's to cops' temple Cop temple's off the devil Sold my soul, at least I've still got the mental Manhattan Africans' with Gucci, coofie's matchin' Truly rappin' to ruggishly bootie's Giuli's baggin' Clean up the city? Need to clean up Wiki's act then Clean up Wiki's ass and I'll let then you catch him That shit ain't hapennin', nah Motherfucker do you realize what a craftin'...fuck it Massacre the public, ain't a master of the subject But I go in hard though, I ain't flashin' when I'm fuckin' Raw, I ain't maskin' up the munchkin MSG Carmello, now we dappin' when he dunkin' MSG, that's the shit that they package in my dumplings Said I'm stuck in New York, stuck rappin' in a dungeon Well I'm really lovin' all the action in this dungeon Ain't leavin' 'til I'm runnin' every faction of this dungeon Five boroughs my boroughs, laughin' at assumptions Feel like four or five 'bout to get assed out in corruption Gettin' paid, but can't get me nothin' except to get my nut in There ain't no way in hell that a paper can get me blunted Keep budgin', keep pushin' Pencils and pennies down under my cushion, while niggas keep lookin' Over my head, they sure ain't heard the shit that I said I go to bed thinkin' about the shit that I dread Wake up sticky, at least I didn't shit in my bed Wiki speaks though Wiki sleeps, I flipped it instead
Writer(s): Patrick Garland Morales, Eric Christopher Adiele, Hakeem Toure Lewis Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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