lirik lagu indefinito555 - purple h4ze
[intro dmattz the rapper]
alright be quiet over there you f~cks
yo, yoo
we up countin’ money all night ya dig
[verse 1: dmattz the rapper]
just left northside wit’ a bag full of purp’
if you test my crew you get laid in the dirt
and i came through drippin’
got designer on my shirt
no cap when i rap all these people go bezerk
and i’m droppin’ bombs on beats so back it up
got the p’s for low then go and mark it up
i’m a freestyle wiz’ but my written’s are tough
you goin’ through withdrawals, you ain’t gettin’ enough
and i ain’t spittin’ enough
i’m too busy with that trap sh~t
but when i do, i’m going big
noise always make a racket
racks on racks, on racks
on racks, on racks
with the pack in back
look like i robbed your stash
classic, stash a couple thousand in the mattress
i’ll bе back next week
you better havе the cash in
started from nothin’
and came all the way up from that
you think i’ll let a f~ckboy
take me back again?
nah, not gonna happen
i’m clappin’ back with that action
reaction time is immaculate
and necks are gettin’ snapped quick
dmattz is stackin’ money
? the streets are runnin’
since a youngin i wanted to be somethin’
rather then nothin’
money moves, stackin’ hunnids to
when the money due
i expect my payment in full
and nothin’ under, cool?
i keep it a hundred ain’t no clowns in my circle
countin’ up all night, smokin’ on purple
[verse 2: indefinito555]
you got played p~ssy boy, that’s a fact
see you runnin’ to the cheese you a rat
pit a bulldog on me, get pinned
flip the roof if they don’t let us in
give em’ war lil’ man, blow the trumpet
all these haters still cursed with reluctance
under sun rays i am still seen
once the moon’s up get hit with the beam
in a room i could trap with the fiends
sensible icarus, ridicule ignorance
helpful degenerate, m in a bottle
i’m sick, i’m sick, call me lovato
level is infinite, devilish innards with
evident tinkering , evidence lingering
fuel up my drip, sh~t might spread the cold
might come through and just switch up the flow
boom bap on my worst days
cl!ck clack, get the cobain
have em’ runnin’ in the city streets
one line of the cocaine
death runnin’ through my bloodline
murder would be the worst case
pop the colonel and the general
sent to h~ll since heaven’s full
666 federal penitentiaries
where they send us to
give a h~lla long sentence too
sh~t i never been so incredible
never… never
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