Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Klang


Schnittstelle


Schwierigkeitsgrad


Akzent



Schnittstellensprache

de

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
registrieren / anmelden
Lyrkit

spenden

5$

Lyrkit

spenden

10$

Lyrkit

spenden

20$

Lyrkit

Und/oder mich im sozialen Bereich unterstützen. Netzwerke:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Fukkit

Sic

 

Sic

(Album: Smithy - 2019)


[Fukkit:]
Uh, yah

[Fukkit (Sabino):]
I'm with my dawg like a Doberman, sic 'em
Adidas stripe on me, I look too official
The fact that we made it here not accidental
Asking me questions, I don't like riddles
Thinking I'll play while they sing like a fiddle
Sleeping on me? Then you soft as a pillow
I don't got time for that bullshit, kiddo
What is my niche? Right here, I guess
.30 on me, when I shoot, it's a swish in a net
And I don't really stop or miss
Number one always, that's why they look pissed
And the second I dropped then they not for shit
'Cause I got hit after hit on the list
Envious of my former accomplishments
Pussy ass niggas still sounding jealous
And I got all the time in the world
I gain credit for killing you
And the blood that I spill, how's it feel to you?
And the damage I do is so real to you
And the puddles, I use as a swimming pool
Dive in that bitch, take a bath in the minerals
Ask the questions I know that will riddle you
Throw my boy in the middle to pick on you
And your girl got a problem, my pickle
Watch gold but the hands in it nickle
Rushing harder than hammer and sickle
While I draw out the line like a stencil
And my bars just hit like missiles
Pick a coffin, make sure that it fits you
Ain't no stopping the rap game skitzo
And the.38 special, don't tickle, bitch (Uh, yeah)

[Sabino:]
Special like specialist, come with the sedatives
Illusion so grand, past embarrassment
[?] 'cause these fuckas not blowing up
I roll with the punches, don't ask how I'm holding up
Better yet, [?] who I am, showing up
Bitch, you get uppercut, yeah, huh
Cut 'em off, bugging
I'll show yo' ass something
I see what y'all honied and dip like a nugget, uh
Quit acting so rugged, I turn ya to [?]
Recalling yo sweet threats, y'all just some defects, uh
That chain made of weak links
Blocking yo' weak links
Dropping some roses to show how yo' shit stink
I cannot duel 'less my pockets what weight gain
I will not settle for life in a cube or a cubicle
That life that you living, to me, is not suitable
Peeled back my nails when I crawled out my hole
I'll settle when this shit start feeling like home
Run from my shadow, won't let that shit hold
I'm running my show and I'm fucking off all you lil' faggots
That's cut from a mold, I could superimpose it
Get kicked from that dick that they riding
But hitting they stomach to stop all that shit
Damn, my breath
Hit yo' peep but you quick, outta time
It's easy to see how we selling these rhymes like dime
Keep 'em locked in a box like mimes
Every step that I take is a mountain they climb
Hope you sick of my shit
Slap 'em up, just the way the beat hit
[?] with some spit
She goes harder than you may it admit
But you must like a sweaty armpit

Uh, uh, uh (Uh)
Uh, uh, uh (Uh, uh-uh)
Uh, uh (Uh)
Uh, uh, uh-uh-uh, dummy

Erledigt

Hast du alle unbekannten Wörter aus diesem Lied hinzugefügt?