| Shit shout out to sky like Warren Moon did it
|
| Blood on the trees, blood on the leaves
|
| Lady day and the meek eating no ford
|
| Why dipper mouth blowing snot
|
| In the Hermes cloth of Jesus
|
| Satched the cleanest since he copped his lace from the priest
|
| In this tree from Jefferson County in the spaghetti roads
|
| The most drip saints marching in
|
| Since Toussaint with the machette
|
| Giving body blows the beast, kept the crackers on a leash
|
| Jesus piece, now come here
|
| Get three-fifths a slice of this Africa cake
|
| Diamonds south of savan I mean the pussy of Africa
|
| Matriarchal golden crown, drum on water
|
| Sky walker, I’m like Nina in the jungle with diamonds
|
| I’m a Black Panther knife to the neck of King Leopold
|
| The glamorous life, yeah
|
| Cascading communications of no significance whatsoever
|
| Waves of pleasure, thought you had the best til you taste better
|
| Taste butter, the tailor tape measure touch like a lover
|
| Doormen’s faces blend into one another
|
| Glass panels in the sky, with the sound off
|
| Even when you drive you fly, they rarely touch the Porsche
|
| I never saw it, just sat stage right
|
| The stage perfectly lit, no time for stage fright
|
| The private jet, the landing strip
|
| Every follicle plugged and trimmed
|
| Zero-sum so somebody gots to win
|
| You don’t understand the quiet it bring
|
| Deafening, you can’t hear a thing
|
| Sinking seats, everything got wings
|
| Signal’s weak, sleep in Faraday Cage
|
| Carrying in curve beak, she in the family way
|
| The skin of my teeth, the hem of my pants
|
| Eyes baggy, wire transfer hemorrhaging blood money bags
|
| Under the eyes, gotta crash, display stolen artifacts
|
| Talking ‘bout a bargain, I’ma barter back
|
| Contraband adapting with the path, forgot the plan
|
| Roll up on a map, I know where I am
|
| Bloodstain on my father’s father’s land
|
| A dirt raise ramps
|
| Never learned how to whistle, still can’t do the moonwalk
|
| I’m running red lights and I hate to have my picture taken
|
| Catch me in the corner not speaking
|
| Doesn’t mean I don’t have much to say
|
| I bet you can’t tell when I’m tweaking
|
| My anxiety don’t look like yours
|
| I just relearned to skate, hands on my lady’s waist
|
| Got a sitter, made a date
|
| Where we at is the place of the most high
|
| Who no know gon' know now, no doubt
|
| We got on like a house on fire
|
| A testimony ain’t nothing but
|
| Being wild and living to tell the story
|
| '19 naughty now, my uncle on a 40-run
|
| Sawed-off on the three-quarter level
|
| Niggas never saw it coming
|
| All CashApp donations go toward my gold fang fund
|
| My appreciation for your participation
|
| Overstanding no such thing as spare change
|
| Blank faces holding space, feeling cramped
|
| Maybe I’m not who I thought I was
|
| Or can be who I said I would
|
| My conjure tongue strong blood
|
| Immaterial to material damn cuz
|
| Make it so, in the image of my most perfect projection
|
| Life is anything but static, supreme mathematics
|
| Repeating numbers, cycles patterns
|
| Summers, winters
|
| Starting later, ending faster
|
| Babel question, chaos answered
|
| Wave reflected all direction |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ramesses II , by - Armand Hammer. Song from the album Shrines, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп