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lirik lagu k.a.a.n. – oochie wally rmx

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[verse 1: k.a.a.n.]
yeah yeah, let’s do it
lawd, knowledge, n-gg-

look, man these mothaf-ckas mad i, i can really feel it
never business always personal, that’s why you in your feelings
once a ceiling, n-gg- i surp-ssed that a year ago
re-corded in a bas-m-nt while you was with a basic b-tch
different states, but safe to say i’m moving on the greatest sh-t
sign my commentary, n-gg- sound like heather b
see you disagree, so suck my d like you heather hunter
1,2,3,4,5 grams in my ronta [?]
a leaf rolled it up for me, no i don’t need company
smoking by myself, but comfortably, i’m feeling lovely
i’m elroy jetson high, this world is under me
my feet up with both eyes wide if they should come for me
a hundred forty five pound tyrant to a troglodyte
keep my name up out your name, you’ll bite off more than you can chew
these sneaky greedy heathens, let me bless you like you say “achoo”, i just went super saiyan, no goku, hadouken with haikus
i swiftly move my iq, large rappers singing like elder busche
falsifying finances, facetiously, down play the losses
off the bars alone i get more respect than the [?]
lucid dream, i’m living like an allan watts dissertation
acid mixed with iowaska, now i see the holy father
lights is getting dimmer, conversation darker watch me sparker
parking eagle to the side, this heat’s a necessary crime
pacino in the mirror, reenact it , no attachments to my life
that i can’t even 30 seconds flat, imagine that
for the sake of time, this motion picture has been edited
like, where’d you get your talents, jehovah’s where i credit it, but
i ain’t talking sean carter, gold shield, strong armor, clean conscious, good karma, shine like the beligian rapper
praise the lord like chance the rapper, everyones a killer
how the f-ck do y’all believe these rappers
most of y’all are entertainers, shucking jobs, don’t make a dime
these sanbores are entertaining
yes sir masa, i’m sure is happy
now tap dance to a mill and tell me how that feel
there ain’t no hands inside my pockets, dividends devote directly, independence is intelligence, don’t you ever forget it
you’re favorite rapper is f-cked, stressed, living in debt
old quarter bought the n-gg-s, i don’t give them respect
a silver chain dipped in gold, with the god on their neck
i’m just a trail across suburban, now we used to live in d-ron
my pockets flat, no spare around
my anchors i still hold it down
my photo finish photosynthesize, i call maturation
rappers feel they self too much, it’s like they masturbating
i sterilize them, now they as stagnant as i
the young popeye, call a doctor, would i [?]
propose the proclamation, proceed to practice my teachings of feedings, i feed them life, your alternative isn’t nice
my advice is that you f-cking practice, i’m practically post-traumatic, impossibly p-ssive impartial, my stance is my prowess, the vantage [?]
my favorite point is to vanquish, no chance i could be defeated
yes dead presents ain’t the key to being icon
i shift off the leat, then shoot my shot like an icon
the f-ck out of my way hoe, i’m definitely manic
i smoke three in a row, the dopest way that i could manage
i’m not a practical thinker, i’ll never ration my reason
if common sense ain’t evolved, then f-ck it bro i don’t need it
that’s no common dependents, like wearing a n-gg-‘s pendent
and driving a car that’s rented to profit off an image
these rappers using the internet to cover up their tenements
the end is imminent, living limitless, i just finished it
woah


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