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lirik lagu sxvxnt – københavn 0400 freestyle

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pen-less
pad-less
full tilt with the rhyme
axis
(repeat 3x)

streaux
rap game ari gold
smack lames and sn-tch dames from maricons
abstain from rowdy boasts
ask lakes who stacks cake:
crocker flow
mig
danish for ‘moi’
french for ‘mani’
latvian for mě
czech for ‘per mine’
romanian, right?
for the object pr-noun of “i”
that’s 5
tongues spoken by the sire from chi
leaves these hoes sprung open like an uncoiled wire
but i
i don’t play with fire
knowing threats is home with that fire
that’s right
she’s
pocket sized, but she’s all right
eyes brighter than strobe lights
about as fly as nine streaux flights
on my tour, right
with cuatro, right
and my young buol lakes
steady burning down a forest like mok-m ain’t up next on the board, kid
gonna be soaring before we’re boarding
and have the whole first cl-ss roaring
until i enter the picture
and shift their attention like “who is this n!gger?!
what’s his name, how’s he here, what’s he do?!”
well, i rap, b-tch. how ’bout you?
or i might be more polite, sh!t, that’s word to united
i’ll say something like
“i
write”
or “with the horn, i’m nice”
or “i’ve scored a few shows that might’ve scored some light
aight?”
but that still won’t fly
they’ll still want to make sure that my ticket is right
fine
these caucasoids ain’t gon’ k!ll my vibe
‘cuz we globe trot, and show rock and combs said we won’t stop
i thought i told you, what y’all ain’t heard?
i’m from the city where ‘hustle’ is life
not a verb
where cicero and washington twist lines
the center of l.u.’s empire
and she might have a pillow to my grind
but she’s a pillar to my grind
and she’s the illest with the rhyme:
l-u, j.u., twista, com
open mike, b-mp j, nikki lyn, va
spencer, defcee, angelenah, zaar
ams, 2g, fillmore, psalm
longshot, dee jack, jdp, pha
sincerely yours, mista dent, omen, tahj
i could keep the names rolling along
but that amsterdam flight and show is tomorrow
and the alarm light just lit up on my audemar
and i’m running out of beat so i’ll close the drawer
and have satch hit the stove some more
satch is cold with the pro, for sure
he did a thorough simone
with that van hunt, and landed on some gold, for sure
lord, it’s pure
raw by the pound
an ill groove with a bop and a supple sound
something smooth i can rock with a supple style
got me spewing off the top out in københavn


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