Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song NEW WORLD OLD MONEY , by - Hedegaard. Song from the album OBLIVION, in the genre ПопRelease date: 04.04.2019
Record label: A Copenhagen Records Release;
Song language: English
NEW WORLD OLD MONEY |
| Yo, listen, homie |
| Listen, homie |
| Listen, homie |
| Listen, homie, this the mission: |
| Make sure we no longer up in the kitchen |
| Munchin' fried baloney, government cheese, paper plates |
| White rice covered with beans with tea on the side |
| Listen, homie, this the mission: |
| Make sure the lights work when we switch 'em |
| Whiter white or lukewarm |
| Not a wordsmith, good book tour, write hooks for |
| Abrams over Luke’s score |
| Listen, homie, this the mission: from back back in the kitchen |
| Mom and Daddy penny pinchin' |
| Car need a new ignition, and brake pads in the back |
| Back by any means a mutherfucker get it |
| Seen you in your dream of glory and grandeur |
| Better get your answers before they can stop us |
| The drug grease nicely for the palm of your handler |
| Slippin' in the moment and forgettin' big papa is |
| Speak with candor, go mind your manners, new world old money |
| The dope got antlers, too cold to stand around and answer |
| Don’t grow no show, too cold Costanza |
| Too cold Costanza, too cold Costanza |
| Don’t grow don’t show, too cold Costanza, cold Costanza |
| Too cold Costanza |
| Too cold |
| (New world, old money |
| New, new money… |
| New world, old money…) |
| Let me get lost in my headspace |
| Queen took the King to the boards, yelling «checkmate» |
| Clyde is the best mate, cut from the cuff link off of the coffin |
| Laugh if they cuff me |
| Let me get my head back, pullin' out the weave |
| If they shootin' heads, they protect the legacy |
| We ain’t never sleep, we been workin' here for weeks |
| Weeks turn months, months to years, I see the enemy |
| But amongst your fear I see flight on a reflex |
| Red dye high in the sky, where the chief next |
| Teach your partner how to fly a yacht, getting sea legs |
| 'Round the world if you got the Glock, killing |
| Millions of people, billions of dollars in wealth |
| Fell asleep at the wheel, get in the car, try to sell |
| Spiteful cycles are bad for the kind of wealth |
| Now we know how grandmama felt |
| Speak with candor, go mind your manners, new world old money |
| The dope got antlers, too cold to stand around and answer |
| Don’t grow no show, too cold Costanza |
| Too cold Costanza, too cold Costanza |
| Don’t grow don’t show, too cold Costanza, cold Costanza |
| Too cold Costanza |
| Too cold |
| (New world, old money |
| New, new money… |
| New world, old money…) |