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lirik lagu supraliminal - skeeoo

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[verse 1: tragedy khadafi]
closed captions when i’m rapping, it’s picture perfect/
i think different, steve jobs, my thoughts emergin’/
anti-commercial version via my service/
the slugs that hit muammar right in his turban/
back to the federal currency, get from under me/
about to make these haters so mad, there’s so much more to me/
2-5, the brand monumental like walmart/
i master the flow art since marley gave me my first start/
rap connoisseur, modernized version of mozart/
let the corks pop on that rose and hit the ceiling/
it’s wonderful existing on top, the realest feeling/
i get money, stack doe whether i rap slow/
so relaxed though, qb’s finest, that’s actual/
2-5 round table messiahs my alliances/
thoughts more complex then stem cell sciences/
align me with the most greatest, my name will be synonymous/

[chorus: x2]
lounged up, smokin’ on good (skeeeeooooo)
whatup i’m back in the hood (skeeeeooooo)
you out there grindin’ every day? getting paid, up, up n away? me too…

[verse 2: supraliminal]
i got thoughts that make the pen explode… ready to let ‘em go/
this time around hoppin’ on it with a legend though/
either friend or foe, still check the method yo/
still do a lil’ harlem shake up on the stepping stone/
what’s a clone to a trend setter?/
ever since i heard it’s dark n’ h-ll is hot?
had this mother f-ckin’ vendetta/
they used to ask me “supra how u livin?”… “aight, been better”/
now i’m doing well and still searching for that perfect weather/
all in all though, you couldn’t bench press my weakest bars/
and if i know one thing: ain’t steppin’ in these sneakers god/
stay around a few intelligent hoodlums/
who can cl!ck pop, or drop the weapons and shoot the good one/
born sinner looking for the angel investor/
give me that venture capital, i ain’t ya typical rapper/
i’ll make it happen for ya, we handle the sitch like attica/
hostages from bering sea to africa..
buck buck get at me bruh…

[chorus: x2]
lounged up, smokin’ on good (skeeeeooooo)
whatup i’m back in the hood (skeeeeooooo)
you out there grindin’ every day? getting paid, up, up n away? me too…

[verse 3: supraliminal]
tell me how i couldn’t stay hot, my pops is nice with the thermal physics/
in with the ministry, spit the sermon viciously/
straight wacko, rap game joe flacco/
act like the only cat in the league that’s elite throwin’ the l-sso/
but on the arm strength, stand back yo/
i throw here? siberian generals gettin’ hit with the shrapnel/
mean muggings up in queensbridge to bx/
dungeon living and dippin’ on the detecs, connects up in quebec/
catch a tiger by his toe on the redirect/
always chiggity check when they demanding the respect/
a straight decade deep, veteran with the penmanship/
you late like dave letterman/ uhm… who i ain’t better than?/
went from pushin’ dimmy sacks to a bit more, to nothing at all/
taught myself to find a hustle, crawl back when i fall short/
runnin’ like barry sanders through all sport/
and trust me now i see a bit on the ball court…

[chorus: x2]
lounged up, smokin’ on good (skeeeeooooo)
whatup i’m back in the hood (skeeeeooooo)
you out there grindin’ every day? getting paid, up, up n away? me too…


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