Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Phantom, artist - Chester Watson. Album song Past Cloaks, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.01.2016
Record label: Pow
Song language: English
Phantom |
«Trapped on a planet of pain and perpetrators |
That you call Earth but I call Hell’s equator» |
Yo, being hella brash is the swag bruh |
Sittin' back and im gettin' ass in Nebraska |
Different flask in a different class rolling grass up |
Nu Age only spitting facts no whack stuff |
Yeah, that’s how we do it no taxin' |
My niggas comin' through and we slashin' with axes |
Bag a fine chick, back tats and an accent |
Niggas tryna 'lab I’mma ask where the racks is |
Uh, cause we don’t do this for free |
Im zoot and I’m starved and a dude gotta eat |
No clockin' out, workin' all day; |
no sleep |
Bring the block out, twerkin' all day, that shit hot |
That’s why we never asks where the streets went |
Dude slangin' trees more cheese for the defense |
K-F-C, two piece, hella greasy |
Little slop, but you see a dude still eatin' |
A dude still chiefin' cause the rules don’t matter |
Don’t need any beef cause 'em tools go splatter, rata, tata |
Shootin' bullshit it’ll come back whizzin' your drawers get splattered |
Where I’m from any niggas wearin' jewels gettin' snatched up |
All about the C.R.E.A.M every fool got back up |
Can’t hear Jesus cause the weed is loud as Mack trucks |
Phantom all black and the volume to the max |
Doin' drive by’s so they don’t know where we at |
All you hear is tires, click-clack, booms of the gats |
No cure for the madness, so it’s like cancer |
Bumpin' «It's a hobo» just became the death anthem |
The whip fouettin' like a dancer |
Échappé-ing to blant up and get slanted |
Disrespect the fam' I’mma have to back hand ya |
And niggas be hatin' they hella mad cause I’m handsome |
Gold Phantom, rancids aren’t random |
Kidnap the game and hold it with no ransom |
A ghostly flow, we hang clothes with no hanger |
Music without me is like dark with no Manson |
Nigga just snuff 'em, and leave they nose flarin' |
Slow motion, that’s a board with bad bearings |
People in awe, my God, just keep 'em starrin' |
I like my fishes Pacific so I copped a red herrin' |
From the bottom, light totes with no handles |
African Sheppard im leadin' goats with no sandals |
Niggas stay sellin' they soul for most stamina |
Don’t invite yourself |
I’m the host with no manners, bitch |
Trapped on a planet of pain and perpetrators |