Letra de Rabies
La Musica De Harry Fraud
Holy Christ of Jesus, Latter-day Saints, I caught a half a brickie
Holy Christ of Jesus, Latter-day Saints, I caught a half a brickie
Climbing up the ladder of success, I brought my ladder with me
Double cup of purple-saurus-rex, and that lamb chop
Modern-day version of my grand pops with a flask of whiskey
Sprinkling the hot sheets on backs of white runts and black truffle
Eight Super Bowl rings on my hands, look like some brass knuckles
Dirty pop them on your third eye
Fuck with my first lady, stir the pot
Stir and stir-fry, you know I'm stir-crazy
First 80K, they tried to persuade me not to murk Davey
Got him out the way around the time I dropped my first Mercedes
Kitchen cabinet full of 8-ounce bottles like a Gerber baby
Sitting on a chirp of dog shit, look like a bird with rabies
Checking in on that red-eye flight, might have to check a bag
Checking out my room, trunk full of dope, follow that checkered cab
Nike checks on my off-whites, courtesy of Virgil
We ran the place so many times that by now we don't need no rehearsal
Are we there yet?
Still trapping in the jungle, still having motion
Having real wrecks, rich and humble
Cell tap, no rebuttal
Fell back, from the huddle
Blow fell on the dorms
Feel like a jail cap when it crumble, yeah
Now run and tell that to the bumbles
Trumble pack on the machete
Four quarters in the O
It's 64 in the bowl
36 a quarter crow
Brick a blow on 44
12 packs in the bundle
It ain't no secret, I was really eating
Patched and slinging keys
Good dope that's best served raw like Japanese cuisine
From my city to Detroit, where we like Magic and Kareem
Body bags in that Pontiac, I took the 90 back with ease, yeah
Three shooters, one driver, we spending car pools
Game man, get it from law school
Got it moving, blue ribbon, dog food
I bought the coupe, then I snatched the truck
They see me and add me up
I'ma have a hundred plus on when you dab me up
Yeah, and that's what's up
But watch what I do this summer
That new paddy bus gon' cost like two caddy trucks
I love to talk about it 'cause them bricks was a real thing
Cut the tape and them flakes shining Tiffany 'til green
It's a victory lap for hustlers who literally had to suffer
I'm on rich-nigga shit, now I sit in the back for comfort
I'm at the fence betting money, I told them that I want the under
I hit a good lick, then married a hood chick just like I'm Shumpert
When they shit drop, their shit go from the studio to the dumpster
I'm in my interviews telling war stories on No Jumper, nigga
Still trapping in the jungle, still having motion
Having real wrecks, rich and humble
Cell tap, no rebuttal
Fell back, from the huddle
Blow fell on the dorms
Feel like a jail cap when it crumble, yeah
Now run and tell that to the bumbles
Trumble pack on the machete
Four quarters in the O
It's 64 in the bowl
36 a quarter crow
Brick a blow on 44
12 packs in the bundle
Count up
Yeah Bo Jack
My nigga bounce back like it's nothing
We made of titanium nigga, fuck you thought
Double cup of purple-saurus-rex, and that lamb chop
Modern-day version of my grand pops with a flask of whiskey
Sprinkling the hot sheets on backs of white runts and black truffle
Eight Super Bowl rings on my hands, look like some brass knuckles
Dirty pop them on your third eye
Fuck with my first lady, stir the pot
Stir and stir-fry, you know I'm stir-crazy
First 80K, they tried to persuade me not to murk Davey
Got him out the way around the time I dropped my first Mercedes
Kitchen cabinet full of 8-ounce bottles like a Gerber baby
Sitting on a chirp of dog shit, look like a bird with rabies
Checking in on that red-eye flight, might have to check a bag
Checking out my room, trunk full of dope, follow that checkered cab
Nike checks on my off-whites, courtesy of Virgil
We ran the place so many times that by now we don't need no rehearsal
Are we there yet?
Still trapping in the jungle, still having motion
Having real wrecks, rich and humble
Cell tap, no rebuttal
Fell back, from the huddle
Blow fell on the dorms
Feel like a jail cap when it crumble, yeah
Now run and tell that to the bumbles
Trumble pack on the machete
Four quarters in the O
It's 64 in the bowl
36 a quarter crow
Brick a blow on 44
12 packs in the bundle
It ain't no secret, I was really eating
Patched and slinging keys
Good dope that's best served raw like Japanese cuisine
From my city to Detroit, where we like Magic and Kareem
Body bags in that Pontiac, I took the 90 back with ease, yeah
Three shooters, one driver, we spending car pools
Game man, get it from law school
Got it moving, blue ribbon, dog food
I bought the coupe, then I snatched the truck
They see me and add me up
I'ma have a hundred plus on when you dab me up
Yeah, and that's what's up
But watch what I do this summer
That new paddy bus gon' cost like two caddy trucks
I love to talk about it 'cause them bricks was a real thing
Cut the tape and them flakes shining Tiffany 'til green
It's a victory lap for hustlers who literally had to suffer
I'm on rich-nigga shit, now I sit in the back for comfort
I'm at the fence betting money, I told them that I want the under
I hit a good lick, then married a hood chick just like I'm Shumpert
When they shit drop, their shit go from the studio to the dumpster
I'm in my interviews telling war stories on No Jumper, nigga
Still trapping in the jungle, still having motion
Having real wrecks, rich and humble
Cell tap, no rebuttal
Fell back, from the huddle
Blow fell on the dorms
Feel like a jail cap when it crumble, yeah
Now run and tell that to the bumbles
Trumble pack on the machete
Four quarters in the O
It's 64 in the bowl
36 a quarter crow
Brick a blow on 44
12 packs in the bundle
Count up
Yeah Bo Jack
My nigga bounce back like it's nothing
We made of titanium nigga, fuck you thought
