Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dhalism, artist - CrimeApple. Album song Perfect, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 01.09.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Manteca
Song language: English
Dhalism |
| A platypus coppin' stones but do them shits glisten? |
| A little bird in this kitchen, ain’t that a chicken? |
| You suckers still rentin' whips and takin' flicks wit em? |
| (Woah) |
| This for digi-scales, you sickly and pale, I prevail |
| You bit your nails, a bad bitch I impale, Ginger Ale |
| The only time you see grams, that or the nursing home |
| Submerge ya bone in formaldehyde, while the coward lies |
| You outta sight and outta mind |
| I’m Stevie touching wonder bread |
| Betting on a horse in old Ralph, i’m feeling underdressed |
| I’m unimpressed, nonetheless I flex, I bet they stress a lot |
| I tend to not |
| She watching for the watch with all the lemon drops |
| I’m popping where it’s never hot |
| In places where it never snow |
| Cats ain’t speakin' English, still proceeded to commend a flow |
| Say Tutti Morti, Sponge on me, squeeze that — you soak |
| Stash the loaf, hit the gas and go |
| You want some packs to roach |
| Bags to smoke |
| Sugar for your septum, that’s a common twist |
| In the garden, green and white on me, that’s some Kyrie shit |
| Lines of this, make every fiend feel fortunate |
| Copped the Bombay and made it stretch like Dhalsim did |
| It was foul — like coppin' McRib’s and biting yoga mats |
| Made it supple with the supplement and made it clone from that |
| This the shit that make the fiends feel fortunate |
| Copped the Bombay and it stretched like Dhalsim did (yoga) |
| We came for cribbo’s with the grotto |
| Twist gillato, hit the lotto |
| Looking Guapo, my novela face for, don’t ever hate |
| Switch the cell, sell shit and celebrate |
| Sharp teeth — penetrate, I took it as flattery |
| Naturally, they knew I bleed green like a |
| Trademarks and patents now, we ain’t finna wrestle now |
| Hastle how? |
| Medellin Samoan’s here to pat you down |
| You shoulda copped 2 of these — fucking with the new regime |
| 20 years from now, Manteca jubilee |
| I include a view for free, smokers like Jamiroquai |
| Trip and said the room was spinning, fumes prolly amplified |
| I’m camera shy |
| Potent on the footage |
| Bet I overlooked the hoe that’s lookin' |
| Probably planned on throwing |
| She fine and shit |
| But son just hit my line for this, he coppin' it |
| Pots and shit, got me cookin' rice on some mami shit |
| Lines of this, prolly make a fiend feel fortunate |
| Copped the Bombay and made it stretch like Dhalsim did |
| It was foul — like coppin' McRib’s and biting yoga mats |
| Made it supple with the supplement and made it clone from that |
| This the shit that gon make the fiends feel fortunate |
| Copped the Bombay and it stretched like Dhalsim did |