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lirik lagu dude madison – movie moments

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[intro]

[sample/hook]

[verse 1]
turned the corner while i turned the tables
and simultaneously signed me to a record label
i keep the beat with my feet as i step down chambers street. khaki shorts, roche runs and some blue elites
i see my team on the corner lurking, whistling at baby while she walking by to work and you know she smirking
yeah she know that she got it
i felt up in my pocket for the money in my wallet
dap central baby what up chid whats happening
it’s 7:36 hurry up and light the spliff
get it quick, let it twist k!ll the sh-t by 7:46
10 minutes gone by now im on another level!
breakfast at the 89 deli, get some bacon egg and cheese in my belly
woah nelly, brobeans catch the coppers in the distance
took off like the whistle of a piston, the whippin in twin engines
born sinners, ill and sinister k!llin

[sample/hook]

hallucination in the f-cking cafeteria
the b-tch running her mouth she must’ve hit the period
exclamation point, when you kick it they be feeling ya
dropping bombs on the track like iraq and syria
pouring bowls of cereal frosted mini wheats that be my sh-t
b-tches i’m acting sl1cker than some liquor and a pistol
that’s the way to go, brother smashed way to go, 8 o’ clock
cl-sses gonna start at 8:30 on the dot
listen to teachers drone on they be bumbaclots
that’s why i always hit the pot, tryna gain some wisdom in this prison that they calling adolescence
see the bigger picture, when it’s picture perfect then you’ll know that school was worth it
keep my grades high just so i could stay high, seniors next autumn
fast forward i’m on college where we business talking
frat kid with the excellent imagery, and always chasing bread catch me where the pidgeons be, flee

[sample/hook]

the urban wasteland, is so amazing
b-tches more -ssets than gangsters in tax evasion
praise the green, and inhale it the sh-t that’s making me paler
than jimmy that one time when jimmy lost his inhaler

heard about me im packing that punch like muhammed ali
only 5′ 9″ but i’m feeling 6’3″ go crazy baby lose my mind
pop a advil like make it stop. i clutch my head and i lay in bed
and i think about everything that i done, think about every place that i been
enlightenment disguised as sin
and it’s hard to swallow like cinnamon
and get sentimental, cuz i missed my shot
rebound baby thats all it takes i never hit the breaks
i never need to pray i got fate in my hands like i’m dr. j. i’m boutta finger roll that sh-t right through the basket spitting sh-t sick now its a cl-ssic

[outro]
it’s dude madison


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