lirik lagu cemetery drive - idk
[verse 1: atlas]
idk
i move fast like a high-speed chase
y’all kids sweet like an ice cream cake
put heads on platters when i need face
yeah, might clean plates
talk down, boy, get your iv drained
say you ain’t got time, ’cause your timepiece fake
hear one more word, it’s your ip traced
i’m at your door, i’m creepin’ in the foreign
mattress store, they sleepin’ on me, snoring
shawty hit me up to come again
back for more, then leaving in the morning
a practice run, the way i treat the system
had enough, i think you need to listen
adding up the fifths and sipping bottles
i hit the throttle quick and see the pistons
switch lanes, insane, road rage, crashed car
shut the game down like the codenames black card
if a lame clown wanna say they the greatest
i grill a silly rapper like a propane backyard barbecue
i’m the hardest, it’s true
artisan marching with armies in boots
i spark up the boof then peace the f-ck out
in the car with your boo
like the bee’s knees, or the thorax
or the lorax, p-ss me the trees, please
my wrist game is on deep freeze
this new sh-t, you ain’t seen these
a few shots, ciroc now i’m moving slow
that paparazzi like truman show
my shawty hot, she like uma thurman
come pop a squat on my cupid’s bow
[hook: thiago]
run it right back
talking sh-t but they don’t want it like that
at my limit, with another, i snap
got me feeling like
this might be the time
go in for the k!ll tonight
run it right back
talking sh-t but they don’t want it like that
at my limit, with another, i snap
got me feeling like
this might be the time
go in for the k!ll tonight
[verse 2: thiago]
run it, run it like a marathoner
i been kicking sh-t like i was maradona
mind in the skies like a paraglider
imma’ make ’em sweat like eric andre
got a bad b-tch she americana
with no fashion, i don’t wear designer
i’m a southern boy north carolina
if you unemployed then i got a offer
[verse 3: cloud mac]
we getting real freaky-deeky in this hoe, man
i don’t really like to talk i’d rather show them
why every single rap you write a poem
i don’t think that poe would like his lines stolen
i would argue with the sun if it means i get a rise
i ain’t talking bout o’shea when i say i got the ice
and no it’s not okay when you talk about my life
cos’ everything you say is just a bunch of lies
[hook: thiago]
run it right back
talking sh-t but they don’t want it like that
at my limit, with another, i snap
got me feeling like
this might be the time
go in for the k!ll tonight
run it right back
talking sh-t but they don’t want it like that
at my limit, with another, i snap
got me feeling like
this might be the time
go in for the k!ll tonight
[verse 4: miles powers]
ima drop out to ball like a one and done, yeah
twenty-one on the 1 o 1 swervin’
i got love for like only one person
maybe five maybe ten who countin’ man
weight up on my f-ckin’ mind like a mountain
send me down a couple rays let the clouds clear
give a little bitta’ sp-ce while i’m out here
yea yea yea homie i can’t breath
my girl got a booty that’s some eye candy
i can’t sleep with this sh-t around
yeah, i count sheep but they gettin’ out the pen
i let em out and in, they head around the bend
been in your town, picture me rollin’
christopher nolan, i be interstellar ain’t no better
hit em with a fine like roger goodell
maybe god is in h-ll, well i’ll be in a cellar in the centre
of the room, by the mic, i don’t wanna move
honeymoon phase end quick
if ya bae ain’t thick homie idk
i got a grade-a chick and she naughty (ay)
pull up at the venue prolly late
i ain’t gonna venmo you sh-t b-tch
‘less you produce on some bluknight sh-t
if your p-ssy that good tell me who priced it
[verse 5: chris wright]
don’t be over thinking it, overpriced
at the function where the sodas spiked
need a drink of something you can hold the ice
second round on me like i’m obie trice
got the green on me like i’m lex luther
got a new b-tch but my ex-cuter
i was short-handed shoulda left sooner
she was jealous now that b-tch a youtuber
got piped down, like a wet dream
then she gotta leave like it’s wipe out
on the timeline, looking s-xy
but she batsh-t, so i swipe down
ride a fine line, like the west wing
wanna picket fence and a white house
drinking fine wine, when she text me
but i’m sleeping on her in a nightgown
like, ah
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