lirik lagu tune;static - joe montana
[intro: jacque lorraine]
(conscience tryna f~ck with me)
yeah
[verse 1: jacque lorraine]
average joe in the catalogue, i be fitted
i feel like t.j. mcconnell, i got these boys trippin’
fake gangsta, only time the [?] grippin’
we got guns in the trust the moment we catch ’em slippin’
steady income, my checks been categorized
portfolio bussin’, these chumps’ money pacified
if he run up in the wrong spot, i hope he’s alibied
you gon’ run out of shots like when the f~ckin’ camera diе
quality assurance how i clean up the mеss
money so framed, it look like i done cleaned up the checks
don’t bark the wrong tree, i’ll take the beat out your chest
kirkified, the way they got him bleedin’ out of his neck
[verse 2: conscience]
who f~ckin’ with conscience? i don’t think i see no takers
botega for me [?], i get more paper
rockin’ a [?] on, got my coat of arms
i’m the king of new orn’, sh~t, i got je ne sais quoi
i’m back for popular demand
my bars got bars, my beats got bars, you really just a fake contender
great pretender, hit him up in the head, and he gon’ switch his gender
uh, yeah, uh, yeah
you better praise god and fear conscience
i’m a certified real prophet
my revelation’s way ahead of the time like john mahome, boy bake like betty crockett
[interlude: jacque lorraine & conscience]
like betty crockett (like betty crockett)
yeah (hmm)
[verse 3: jacque lorraine]
[?] croutons baked inside of a brick oven
cracker so weird, i bet that motherf~cker kissed his cousin
no cdl, but i’m still truckin’, i’m still dumpin’
ghost notes gon’ guarantee to get the beat jumpin’
dippin’ in and out of styles like the pool was made of swag
you better hope you don’t get locked up ’cause they guaranteed to take that ass
salivatin’ the prospect to make a lot of cash
whole family of b~tches, f~ck around, pump fake his dad
collect calls blowin’ up my phone like i was walkin’ around with a beeper
playin’ outside of my league, why she walkin’ with that [?]
my homeboy f~ck with german engineerin’, he got a bimmer
call that boy oscar meyer, the way he f~ck around with weiners
[verse 4: conscience]
vintage affliction, royal premium denim
iconic beats, iconic lifestyle, that sh~t gon’ send ’em
[?] i got my chronicle on me, i spit venom
my bl!ck hang from my waist like a f~ckin’ labubu
if you think you can f~ck with us, we guaranteed to shoot you
[outro: conscience]
uh, f~ckin’ conscience
it’s f~ckin’ jacque lorraine
it’s f~ckin’ b;lock
better f~ckin’ protect your neck
(i lost my conscience a long time ago)
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