Big KRIT - Conscious Effort Freestyle - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Conscious Effort Freestyle

Big KRIT

Week of K.R.I.T.

61

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Verse: Big KRIT] Early like the mornin', yawnin', wipe the crust from my third eye To peep the true intentions of buzzards Flock and chirp like they're lovers, but pull their talons in public Scratch you out like the lotto, these niggas hoes for the ducket's, I swear Cause money make niggas change like dollar bills Seen it once or twice, nigga blocked your life, that shit for real Brutus came through thrice and he murked out Caesar after all them years Now what makes you think your shit don't stink and you won't get killed Cause always someone riding, rolling their eyes At the fact I'm a king and I'm so modest about my rivalries from Other kingdoms, it's such an oddity that being humble could be a sign of weakness When they know that I know that I body them so Why waste the cavalry? No need for casualties When niggas know that their time is up, like what the fuck they rhymin' for? What these labels signing for? It's hard to find it comical Cause this ain't Saturday Night Live, no adlib, no high five, just chess moves I wreck that shit, never peck that shit, bitch, how dare you? I'm my only competition, there's no one else to compare to Unless it's Zeus or Thor Or a mystical creature that only eat beats and emcees so feed me more I wonder if all this hard work really gonna pay up While laying up in the villa with broads that's dying for me to slay on Not even tripping on blog sites 'cuz they draw light to them haters Could let a nigga tell it, them niggas is jealous comment on my flavors Favors, shit I don't do them hoes lately Big frontyard, big backyard, have 'em send smoke signals to my neighbors Got a driveway around my way, you a quarterback throwing papers I ain't worried 'bout no jack boy, these white folks pullin' capers Where I stay and I bet they think I'm a dopeboy Cause I walk that way, and I talk that way to them folk boy Sit my rims on the curb, Captain Phillips couldn't sail where I float, boy Was a hustler at birth, I could sell Mr. Clean some soap boy Been a while since I feel like talking that shit Over-confident, common sense, commonly that we get Honesty is a commodity, similes ain't my shit I could say it's popping for sure, you probably think I'm frying fish Maybe I was, ho Cause dropping a boombox in your bathtub was the only way you could buzz mo' And yeah, that's cutthroat But it's slice her neck or cut a check It ain't my shit if It ain't wrecked It must be y'alls if it was stepped on Yo bitch a freak, fucked her to sleep And that was the last time I was slept on Shit, I woke up and fucked her again so she ain't sleep long, nigga
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