lirik lagu mickey diamond & big ghost ltd – death by designer
[verse 1:]
ahh gucci ghost!
i need my paper tall as wedding cake
but not the kind that betty make, remember pushing petty weight, weed and alcohol to self~medicate
twin .9s on me i call ’em ashley and mary kate
porsche 911 like it’s wyclef and mary j
burt wonderstone he’ll make you levitate
i send you straight to heaven’s gate behind this chainsaw
you see a leatherface, close encounters, your death is always one step away
over dеsigner you can take your last breath today
lifе is like a game of roulette you could be next to play
so when our numbers get called we just accept our fate
the benz got reflective plates detectives say my name high in seven states
i’m on the way to vegas bumpin’ kevin gates (uhuh)
bet it all on black and come back with a clean slate
or get your boss the bean bag enough cream to leave you in a dream state
at times i used to pray ’till my knees ache
talking to a man in the clouds, this sh~t seem fake i can’t remember your name
i’m drawing a blank withdrawal a hundred from the bank
and go put it all in a tank
we gave you underground classics
we the ones you gotta thank
they wasn’t wearing ski masks
now i gotta pull rank i catch you pirating my tape i’ll make you walk a wood plank
spanking n~ggas like my son when they pull their little prank
hit the drink like frank gallagher, the chrome .38 soul caliber (boom)
your n~ggas’ days is numbered like a calendar
you got a sh~t in the bag move your bowels through a catheter
they zip you in a bag then throw a party to laugh at ya
and that’s the harsh realities of a rapper
you can go platinum plus die and now you worth half as much
welcome to the dark side, i hope you packed a lunch
it’s cool to be yourself why n~ggas always acting tough?
if this was 2006 we would’ve sn~tched your buffs
stomped them sh~ts out and gave ’em back ’till you scratched and scuffed
another one bites the dust, no dice your life’s a bust
who nice as us, all night i’ve been looking for mics to crush
turn icebergs to slush, five mic deluxe, i got the midas touch
conjure ghost stories then i’ll write ’em up
gucci ghost
death by designer
“have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?”
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