Armand Hammer - Shark Fin Soup - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

03.10.2013

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Tekst piosenki
[Elucid] Got fireworks going on outside Roman candle to the face Home is a place inside myself, not a physical domicile Love, hate, indifference, in this space we all float around China doll crystalline, financiers and cappuccino raw cinnamon Lines drawn I fill em in Illin since Rubin and Simmons splitting Sicilians Unlikely affiliates lemme tell you how it really is Living off experience Closet reptilian bitches be my Achilles Earth girls easy though mostly inferior Turning brilliant corners, pitching quarters Put ya money on it I break em down in installments Periodicals and volumes hoarded My footsteps haunted Dead mans ballys I'm sporting Flawless Georgia red clay complected/Crossroads Gatekeeper posted at the intersection Coined flows to keep it interesting My pen arresting Apex predator sole profession They vexed Stunted developments 20 year cycles Raw deal no embellishment Im a young old nigga tryna remain relevant Core elements Chalk it up to my heritage They stare incredulous Tryna Get the scoop like pelicans You JV niggas better off pouring beverages Kick my feet up ‘fore im settled in [Hook x2] Pump tapes out the trunk Too short The product sell itself like Newport Or Al Sharp/Thats New York The soup shark Dumplings pork Mott street noodles out the mouth when I talk [Woods] Last call, she poured mine on the house December 25th, he’s the Grinch, I’m Oscar the Grouch Magic 8-ball, “all signs point to no” Chasing waterfalls, his grand summation “the bitch is a hoe” What does one say to that? I sipped the yip with thoughts black A bad trip like you gotta take the bus back Wishing he never fucked with it like crack But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride And I wouldn’t be here nursing this sucker Thinking bout getting high, motherfucker If you nice like that then you better do it live Dusty loop/heavy bag drums I’m not from Brownsville So never had a problem when it came time to run Rabbi and the Golem Base clay left to harden in the sun Mobutu Sese Seko Kill em all without touching a gun House made of legos Throw all the stones you want Play the wall like they playin techno Regs in a Phillie blunt Slaughter Rule/chop the heads off fools who refuse to punt Duel with the beat Words measured then cut with teeth Unspooled into the city’s last payphone A young Larry Merchant, perched On the ball of my feet [Hook]
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