lirik lagu prophet kore$h - goldmine
[verse 1: komato$e]
you know me, it’s all about the circ-mstances
keepin’ to myself in a room full of shirtless dancers
only ’cause my new b-tch the cutest, no rude sh-t
i’m jus tryna get through all of the simple movements
i keep her right by my side
i keep a .9 in my ride
never gon’ get robbed again
i’ll clip a n-gga tonight
usually ain’t on that ho sh-t
stay on my own, so encroachment
ain’t my prerogative, goad sh-t
ain’t what i’m ’bout, now you know this
my girl is sweeter than hostess
the hostess to my heart
when she’s gone, i smoke more than usual, ’cause usually i carb-
cap the rig once or twice while it rains
but it’s half a gram later, still washin’ ‘way the pain
so i
sit back
stop smokin’
at this point i’m burnin’ money in the bowl, man
i don’t know why i’m always on one in the first place
maybe nostalgia with friends from that blunt i first faced
everything that glitters isn’t just what it seems
but i’ve chased enough dirt to find the gold in my seams
’cause you a liar
and a fake
and i gave you
everything
so now i’m onto the next b-tch
you can get a mention, but nothing else extra
[verse 2: prophet kore$h]
let the weed blaze while the beats playing
you keep hating, the heater spraying to leave you laying
6 feet deeper than statements jesus would make
10 toes down, i walk what i’m talking
stephen hawking with the flow
my foes are amyotrophic
claim they got my back
but they plot on how to say they got me back
smacking donald trump with a guala stack
trappin in my baller slacks
still rock versace off the dollar rack
money on my mind, tryna get a f-cking college cap
and usher in a job so that i can pop my collar back
wonderfully designed every line you hear me rhyme
the kind that make you gotta hear the sh-t a second time
rewind, i’m 18 in my prime
muhhhaaf-ckaa, once was paid incest now i’m blunted off the hundreds
stuffing duckets in my trousers by the dozens
i blaze pot like an oven, stay chopped like an onion
music got me buzzin’, now a n-gga getting money off of nothing
i’m snoop dizzle with 2 pistols, i shoot and then hit you
then i move quicker than dudes who knew jujitsu
it’s too simple, i’m complex as cobwebs
with 2 widows giving me hot s-x
but they was f-cking me while their husbands were not dead
a lil bit twisted in the head
clinical pot head, half an ounce of loud in my arm rest
pigs pull me over, the smell is making my palms sweat
anytime that i announce a project
you m-th-f-ckas label it a bomb threat
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