lirik lagu kig v2 - salute
[intro]
uza on that pair of dice
uza on that aaaaaaa!
…
[verse 1]
uza run the clock, b-tch, uza on that five pan
for the zates why that glock sing, got my pre’ for this vyvanse
if ‘em dreams full of vibrance, then total silence a must
where i drive, claim as mine, deer-in-headlights, think i give f-ck bout the musk
phone always buzz, buzz, buzz on the counter, you caught me buzzing like malibu
salute long after salutations, watch–alt-tude value grew
“you know you’re apt to attract acts of malice too,”
smoke into lungs from gl-ss he drew, f-cks are through
drench the stench of blue with palace loot
caught a scent
ain’t a come-jekyll-jecture what it is that i’ma catch next
everything left, minus sack of burlap round-a-bout the size of a head
heading back home
ears love her clapping, like pirates, earbuds blasting, his pyrex
unleash a flooding, most pious, and yet his ears be the driest
ain’t i no fan of the sound of defiance…
grind like some white sh-t, invulnerability in full affiliation with abrasions on the mirror
plenty rest come a year, or four
or more…
mm, f-ck it
[bridge]
work, work, work, until i f-cking die
rise, rise, rise, until i finally fall
why, why, bother asking “why” about you at all?
[verse 2]
hate for prancing villager, plus farsickness to dillinger supplant as wall
to keep my fist pocketed when we are witness to your f-ck–ss at the mall
docking it
mood flew in positive, i’m hacking it
haven in the harbor, honorable concerns, f-cking drop it, ugh
raps erratic, agh
doob dude on his duty; ya’all think you do doozy when you doesn’t
gotta lotta sh-t i plan to grant to the public, missed the vulcan, splashing buckets
twisted as hair of pubic, or tryna function parent when you’re drunken
independence, sure, it rugged
errant when plugged in, bruh, i kid
you should see what the rake mucked in
you’re hand to mouth like f-cking muppets
cousin cut the fluff, it called liposuction, your rustic ego need be shrunken
f-cking
weak at every gusset, stab music published, no need no cutl-ss
and if my writs have a culprit, check the sudden sh-t i done stomached
each and every day down the gullet, life’s buffet’s brewing is faulty
fl-stered i won’t pick a side, well i’ve always considered sui’ or homi’
deliver comp-ss towards my summit, like these chumps gonna prove me good, homie?
watch lyrical gunman at the junction go through the me, into embalming
i already feel a concussion, if you’ve got the juice, then pour it
sentenced to life dungeon, can’t give the deuces to morbid
so for those who suffer in silence, sentence that finger to forehead
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