Lyrics Cult Sag 616 - Black Josh, Milkavelli, Lee Scott

Cult Sag 616

Holy shit, roll me a spliff
I’m too high for hand eye coordination
Cold sagging, toe tagging the corpses in my basement
They’re the fertiliser I use to grow the crops I got waiting
I got cockroaches mating and rats raving under my floorboards
While I’m blazing on my couch smoking a nine bar to a half ounce
Spitting over sixteens in your cypher like I can’t count
Making it rain like I pulled the harp out
They call me the Great Ape, smoking grade A, grade H, break face and some OG
kane it tastes great
Call me King Kush, bow to your heiness
My loud gives teams tonight-ish
Gold finger, the touch of Midas
Moving food 'til I give you nigga writing
Adidas trainers, surrounded my vagina
Bitch asked me for a draw but had cold saw and I denied her
You can’t take draws but I can supply ya, with the Cali kush if you got a tenner
Someone with a fiver
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
I’m cult sagging yeah, I’m cult sagging
I’m in thot mansion, them hoes creeping
I’m so high in Cult Mountain, my nose bleeding
I toe tag 'em for no reason and I’ve been cold sagging since cold sagging had
no meaning
No sleep 'til I’m O. D'ing, it’s snow season so the cold makes me rush.
No Ian
But O. E'ing, that’s some malt liquor
Now get some Rizla, throw some OG in
Cash rules everything around me, CREAM, get the money 'til I’m feeling like I’m
Saudi
Like, cash rules everything around me, CREAM, get the money, do a hundred whip
it said I’m outy
I wrote this on the Route 66, riding shotgun with a pair of blue lipstick kids
Doing whippets in a German whip
Speaking of German whips, that’s pretty apt since I merked your bitch
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
I’m cult sagging yeah, I’m cult sagging
Skull fits, wear this BLAH bucket
I was gonna say something that meant something but nah fuck it
I’m cold sag running on the spot, bitch please
And it’s not a pretty one with cherry’s on the top
I’m sitting on me balls like two space hoppers
Lounging, on the front yard while the dogs are growling
At the cops surrounding, downing Vodka frowning
Drowning in a puddle blood
Thug, idiot, several ciggies lit, in his lips
I’m stingey, I don’t even give a shit
A scumbag like mmm, when I’m guzzling Stellas
I like F words and neck birds in front of their fellas
Looking lifeless as the moonlights hitting me
Too right I smoke it through like Hickory
One man gang bang, bitches round and neck 40's
Say me name more time than Rick says Morty’s
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa
I’m cult sagging yeah, I’m cult sagging