lirik lagu $kid (rapper) & danny g beats - lombardi
[intro]
(ooh, sh~t, what the f~ck, daniel?)
inbred meth addict music
k!ll this one
[verse 1: danny g beats]
just made a cpn, my new name cameron scott
you can’t get like me and $kid ’cause you’re a f~ckin’ bot
i don’t do drugs, but $kid’s pourin’ up some snot
you can keep that b~tch, i’d never f~ck her, she a silly thot (shadow rich gang)
slap a tradeline on after i do my public records
bust this ghost down, then i’m up dog sh~t records (shadow)
i’m still makin’ beats, i’m signed to hip hop lab records
you’re tryna get this money and save free, it’s chess, not checkers
i’m a player in the game, just like miles bridges
me and thе gang ’bout to hit kamal and ice out the bridges
you down and out ‘causе you ain’t got no money or b~tches
me and $kid cookin’ up, listen to scales in the kitchen
holy sh~t
i can tell you’re a rook, i used to be a beginner
she back it up, bend it over, then i eat it for dinner
i keep a bopway top shelf, lord, forgive me, i’m a sinner
you’re stealin’ tails out the ashtray to roll up a pinter
[verse 2: $kid]
seventy~inch tv on the wall at the coke spot
walk in somerset buffed up with a dope knot
leavin’ neiman marcus, my play in the parking lot
the dog don’t bite, but my fiends say it bark a lot
ran so many plays, i should win a lombardi
i got this lil’ uzi on me like i’m ridin’ with carti
louis shirt i’m wearin’ cost a qp of smarties
we hear an opp at the function, dutch’ll shut down the party
ridin’ down powers with three different powders
new white buffs look like clam chowder
fiend coppin’ bags of flour, unc’ rollin’ some sour
(katy in belleville, i’ll be there in an hour)
i really want this sh~t like eastside 80s (ooh, sh~t)
junkies outside lookin’ like they got scabies
your b~tch foamin’ at the mouth, but she don’t got rabies
kicked irene out the spot, she pulled up with her baby
[verse 3: $weet~t]
i’m chillin’ with the president growin’ out the p’s
the way i hit the gun store, you’d think my money grows on trees
they want $weet on the track, they just can’t afford the feat’
hit the mall and drop it all, all you copped was a plea
you’d think my fiends were from aspin the way they coppin’ the ski
residential lumberjack the way i’m choppin’ this tree
you gave a b~tch your salary and she done slapped the gang for free
dutch’ll pop you in the top if you disagree with me
brought this b~tch to the crib, and i put her in a pretzel (holy sh~t, what the f~ck—?)
gettin’ bread off the ice, puttin’ ice in the bezel
i need the millions and billions, i can never ever settle
every time i leave the crib, i’m strapped up with the metal
your b~tch was tryna throw that lil’ thing when she seen my huge roll
this lil’ gun i got (will leave a huge hole)
movin’ all this d~mn weight gonna get me too swole
ar~15 in the trunk tall as manute bol
(the 5g is microwaving my organs, and i’m loving it)
(if you’re listening to this song, you are shadow cursed for eternity)
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