lirik lagu jpegmafia - cult status (bandcamp version)
[intro]
one, two
one, two
uh, one, two
hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo
hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo
[chorus]
this is cult status
you dealin’ with known attics
american made choppas
you beefin’, we split ya cabbage
standin’ next to the stars
it’s funny, ’cause you a asterisk
when you break up with ya hoe, we gon’ pin that b~tch to the mattress
b~tch n~ggas be thinkin’ they jokes be hittin’, they be straining
i can’t be seen with you worm n~ggas, y’all need training
born into money, got more money, then start complainin’
shoulda kept it online or end up in terminal condition
[verse 1]
b~tch n~ggas be thinking they jokes is hurting me
play with me, b~tch, you play yo’self
we press you, it’s a courtesy
play with mе, he need surgery
court room gave him thе third degree
burner pistols and lawyer fees
burn him, he broke the loyalty
backshots, gripping ass
she usain when i go too deep
this butane i feel when i breathe
it goes, it goes, it goes, that b~tch head go off like guillotine
these b~tches be obsessive with my amex like they central cee
top five, not two or three
[verse 2]
ayy, peg in his new bag, tell me who bad
before we gettin’ wavy, let’s start with somethin’ for the durags
ain’t seen a barbershop in years, where cube at?
and if i gotta push it to the edge, you gettin’ lined up with a new tag, b~tch
they send shots then act surprised when they get grazed
run to the internet, they’ll believe you, you get glazed
i seen your splits, b~tch, sh~t talk don’t pay
unless you was good enough to sh~t talk your way to ye
the rush from proving y’all wrong, nothing above it
looked at my family tree and saw sleep was my favorite cousin
my rewards, they don’t come from awards, n~ggas is bored
my percentage over the number like qwerty keyboards
now, how the f~ck is n~ggas talkin’ ’bout my fits ain’t clean?
pray to the almighty sosa and to dj scream
now look, it’s critical, i flip the sample like bobby digital
money over b~tches, ’cause b~tches, they come in intervals
[chorus]
this is cult status
you dealin’ with known attics
american made choppas
you beefin’, we split ya cabbage
standin’ next to the stars
it’s funny, ’cause you a asterisk
when you break up with ya hoe, we gon’ pin that b~tch to the mattress
b~tch n~ggas be thinkin’ they jokes be hittin’, they be straining
i can’t be seen with you worm n~ggas, y’all need training
born into money, got more money, then start complainin’
shoulda kept it online or end up in terminal condition
[verse 3]
since pitchfork fell off, the yuppies been goin’ through it
gossipin’ like some b~tches and playin’ catch up in music
rappin’ like backpackers, don’t sell no more, it’s confusing
the crack be hittin’ like whitney, i’m pistol~packing in houston
she caught me jerk eating at that jamaican spot
can’t wait to pop, i park a big body up in ya vacant lot
best production, you don’t say me? i tell a hater “stop”
but when you el presidente n~ggas debate a lot
[outro]
uh, we on the road, we all the time, we outta line wit it
i keep the switch up on the pistol for the crime business
don’t give a f~ck about no time difference, for real
uh, potato on the barrel, make ’em eat the hash wit it
brought in the dame to roc~a~fella, but i dashed with it
pray to the mafia, we tax different, for real
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