Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Agenda, artist - GrafhDate of issue: 05.03.2020
Song language: English
Agenda |
| I’m back with the spirit of Nipsey |
| Take a brick and I scissored it crispy (hot) |
| Silencer on the nickel got it whistlin' Dixie |
| My soul got soul, my spirit is drippin' in whiskey |
| Your soul on sale, I could buy it (uh) |
| I got drugs for sale, you could try it |
| All that sleep and you still look tired (ha) |
| I don’t care 'bout your rap sheet, you look wired |
| Fuck all the perjury, y’all should go ring the alarm for the burglary |
| I’m on a long murder spree |
| Y’all should be urgently callin' emergency |
| This open-heart surgery, your blood spillin' over, dark burgundy |
| All the flippin' over the raw perfectly |
| Done created enough crack babies to open a small nursery |
| Drop the top on the Range Rover, then park vertically (skrrt!) |
| I break most of the law first degree |
| I came throwin' a dart to break open the art surgically |
| My chain glow in the dark, certainly, baby, bling (bling!) |
| I’m fly, but I’m from the gutter |
| I date project bitches that’ll jump your mother |
| Come for supper, all we servin' is guns and butter |
| I’m with the smoke up above the muffler, fucker |
| Chea |
| Yup, yup, you know |
| Yup, yup, you know |
| Ay, you know the agenda |
| Ay, yeah, you know the agenda |
| Yup, yup, you know |
| Yup, yup, you know |
| Ay, you know the agenda |
| No love for fuckboy pretender |
| You know the agenda |
| Fake out, real niggas in the center |
| What up? |
| Uh; |
| A million dollars later, they ask «am I down with Shady?» |
| Nigga, I’m up with Em, I’m tired of this conversation |
| Finally graduated, my dad said go to the army |
| I went and got famous and joined the Rihanna Navy |
| I’m the OG, but don’t you ever try to play me |
| I’m mature but I’ll beat your ass like I’m DaBaby |
| I’ll come to where you and your homies dwell |
| For spewin' them phony tales |
| Kill you and bury you with your Sony sales |
| And you and your lil' girly purse |
| And your Laverne and Shirley shirts are receivin' only Ls |
| You’ll prob’ly burn from the smoke if you don’t inhale |
| Hurt people hurtin' to hurt, word to the homie Kells |
| Two of your cronies fell, and you in a coma holdin' on for dear life |
| Like Coolio ponytail |
| And all they feel is sorrow |
| Before the semi was auto I was semi-immortal |
| Dvinci tires was on the car like Leonardo |
| Two-tone Benz sittin' pretty like Winnie Harlow |
| Ridin' off laughin' loud as Ricky Ricardo |
| Haaaa… y’all niggas know the agenda |
| If it’s war, nigga, y’all niggas on the agenda |
| I’m sendin' all of them henchmen out |
| You know all the ins and out |
| Ain’t nothin' to talk about, or trip about |
| We ain’t squashin' nothin' yet, cut all the wimpin' out |
| We got doctors on set, this is all the insanity niggas dreamt about |
| I got the line on your family, nigga |
| I got choppers on deck, like one of y’all grannies just took her dentures out |
| I’m a slave to my hooligan ways |
| You shoot the fade, I lose the fade, I come back shootin' the Ks |
| You shoot the K back, then I came back through and threw the grenade |
| You the shit? |
| Well, I’m the shit that came back through the bidet |
| Sent the booth, unloadin' speed-loadin' truth |
| Each flow is proof, the reason these hoes be on the net |
| Deepthroatin' fruit |
| Crackers told me to go back to Africa |
| 'Cause I spit those facts, this the Colfax massacre |
| 150+ black deaths, a city overrun by crack, meth |
| One hit could be your last breath |
| Yup, yup, you know |
| Yup, yup, you know |
| Ay, you know the agenda |
| Ay, yeah, you know the agenda |
| Yup, yup, you know |
| Yup, yup, you know |
| Ay, you know the agenda |
| No love for fuckboy pretender |
| You know the agenda |
| Fake out, real niggas in the center |
| What up doe? |