lirik lagu crisis minute - wealthmasta
[verse]
catch a round in your chest, like i’m monitorin’ your heart rate, you tard
you tried crossing the gods, leavin’ you hooked to wires like a rocket to mars
you’re probably marked, cause i got that switch, b~tch, i found a socket to charge
but maybe you need a doctor in charge, call up a hospital, although that’s just a shot in the dark
look at all the stakes i’m raisin,’ everything’s a gamble, like you a vegas native
hopin’ they don’t roll up, but it’s too late, the suspect’s name’s paraded
like a love note, guy gets tased, degraded by the cops cause his papеrs dated
told him he’s not the victim, got shot with a starting pistol so it’s probably racе related
i don’t play pretend when i’m grabbin’ the paper, pen, and some saved up cents
that’s hands~free profit, hands~free flip off some ledges, boutta face the wind
if this sh~t’s pay to win, i ain’t just reignin’, b~tch i’m f~cking leapin’ over stadiums
call it the royal mint, so ya better check that balance, like you’re at the d~mn atm
boutta receive a bruise like you drinkin’ the hennessy, so don’t whine, cause i bet it’s jealousy
mentally sending ‘em into jeapordy, bet they never contesting me again, every enemy
got the memories, and since you have the tendency to only keep it 10 with me
then when yo ass gets split in 3s, don’t pretend it wasn’t meant to be
you were already bound to suck, you spent a thousand bucks like a clown to be foul as us
y’all haters npcs, but i found the plug, you can’t be the king cause your crown is dumb
make the whole town erupt, like how the f~ck, y’all dumbf~cks outta luck
cause i ain’t running in circles around that stuff, they getting x’d out and cut
but b~tch, this ain’t algebra, meaning i ain’t getting an accountant’s trust
i don’t spare em when counting cause i don’t square em, i round em up
better expect some expectoration oration cause i be spittin,’ yo plight’s ballistic
you whippin’ to find opinions implyin’ winnin is my decision, you’re right as mike tyson is, it’s
the crisis minute, slicin’ dipsh~ts with wide incisions and visibly high statistics
and slidin’ in like an iphone widget, supplyin’ missiles that leave your sight bright and vivid
b~tch ima get em like a high percentage of you sh~theads’ lives are finished
you boutta die a critic, leave you silent like a diacritic, and time’s restricted
like i’m gettin’ a pilot ticket, if the sky’s the limit i’m finna defy the physics
cause i’m acidic and i see them crying b~tches, cyrogenically ending em, so don’t cry and get p~ssed
since my acension is scientific, you could be held higher if you tried admittin’
that sh~t instead of lying just like a b~tch does, i bet yo nikes legit as your f~cking id is then
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