Ishkabibble's
(专辑: WHO MADE THE SUNSHINE - 2020)
[Westside Gunn:] Ayo Over pots, it's the
overlord sitting on crates (Ah) Half and half durags, sipping the
quarter water Quarter in my socks, lord, and we rocked We hopped up out the
Porsche and torture (Skrrt) Hermès sport rocker, fiends acting like it's a
soap opera "West, I'ma die, I
need four dollars", no problem Bring back six, and two more niggas Dior dealers, stashed about half in the
floor in it (Ah) Ain't no business like raw business, S6 all tinted Wipe down my guns, make sure it's authentic Aw shit, head spinning, lead noodles Monogram collar on the
red poodle, Feds will do you filthy Have you coming home seventy, some shit'll ever be (Ah) Bentley on Beverly (Skrrt), Palm Angel MAC that shoot heavenly (Brr, brr, brr) Drop kick the
brick and hit the
Pedigree (Hit the
Pedigree, ah) Ayo, bodies on the
nine, Murakami with the
rhyme (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) My shooter rocking red Muslim garms 'cause he Slime (Ah) Find another vein, he'll be fine, we divine (Ah) Skeleton wrist, what a
time, what a
time (Ah) My nigga got caught with dog food, got a
dime (Got a
dime) Didn't drop a
dime on the
surf, I'ma shine (I'ma shine) We mobbing on the
yard, one was nine, where was Shine? (Where was Shine?) I'm Sly Green in his prime (Ah) [Black Thought:] Ayo, King Musa, key to what, the
Mali gold Hire y'all to hold and keep cleaner than Diwali soul Mean and never highly questionable like Bomani Jones The
silent plot, the
angel investor nobody knows His clothes smelling like [?] and Somali rose Them fiends histamines keep 'em with a
snotty nose (Damn) What a
waste like the
place where that shotty goes They'll prolly doze in the
corner, tell 'em "Adios" Heron could cop a
fake rhyme, but he pushing neon This coke'll knock the
face off the
Sphinx like 'Leon He just an unassuming normal human, never beyond What seem to be his means, he ain't tryna do a
eon I
see him when he park up, he rarely ever talk up The
elevator broke, he in a
four-story walk up West Indian Archie memory, he don't even spark up He pull the
plug on every enemy that try to mark up The
price point, homie on his kingpin for life joint Big Darby, private island, just him and his wife joint Word, he only visit via charter, still beg, borrow, and barter Son, we gotta move smarter like a
Carter And stand in purple rain like Prince and Apollonia Playing like Chillean seabass in Patagonia It's only a
few who could see past the
average homie Or the
reason for the
sneezing, be glad we got pneumonia, kid On some cleaner than ammonia shit