Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Reckless, artist - Krizz Kaliko. Album song Son of Sam, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 26.08.2013
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
Reckless |
| They say I need to slow down |
| Like I drink too much, I party too much |
| But I’m reckless baby |
| I was born that way, I’mma stay that way |
| Niggas couldn’t see me if my vitiligo was neon |
| Nose in the air, staring at the planet that He on |
| Scratch you off my balls with my paws, y’all be gone |
| Effortlessly F em, left em jeffing, my nuts they be on |
| Get out my face is what they telling me |
| But I’m the shit, you smelling me |
| And I refuse to rep any letter, this ain’t no spelling B |
| So what I’m saying, ain’t no question who the man is |
| Kali take his chances with you jarets |
| I’mma keep on talking reckless, brothers left em respective efforts to dap em in |
| Used to be in love with the pen, don’t know what’s happening |
| Bread ain’t matching the abstract rapping, now how that’s happening |
| Everly telling me money’s funny |
| Why I ain’t laughing then? |
| It’s like I got the wheel but I neglect it |
| Drunk as hell and don’t know where I’m headed |
| Sideways down a one way dead end |
| Telling you to get in |
| It’s like I’m talking Greasy to an OG |
| Slapped a couple pimps up like they owe me |
| Mugging you like nigga you don’t know me |
| I can be that nigga you want me to be |
| I be talking reckless reckless reckless reckless reckless |
| I be talking that reckless reckless reckless |
| Well shut up! |
| When you leave I’ll be talking that shit |
| But I’m a master when I match words |
| In a nutshell I bust well |
| After burner, taking off |
| I’m on a launch pad, no Duck Tales |
| What smells? |
| I’m on fire |
| Throw a little wood up on the bonfire |
| Tell yo mutts I’m on a Helen Hunt |
| And now I’m mad about you, Paul Reiser |
| Killer on the mic, born naturally |
| Baseball bat with the barb wire |
| Mick Foley, I’m sick homie |
| If you paid for the verse you an art buyer |
| Ides to march, hide yo marks |
| Howard Stern, private parts |
| How on earth first thing that I prove is 13, is that I could chart? |
| Maybe I shouldn’t be giving you the crazy eye |
| If I was smart but I’m U-B-I and I’m reckless |
| Set tripping and writing for Ces bitch |
| Knock 'em out cold, south pole |
| Matter don’t money, I’m about dough |
| Fuck a hard rock, I’m a star fox |
| No Falco, outro |
| I’m ahead of the curve cousin |
| Killing 'em, keeping it strange, I’m coming to burn something |
| Ain’t nobody on the radio |
| Fucking with us so you niggas ain’t heard nothing |
| Yet I’ve been up in the lab |
| With a pen and a pad, a couple of bad bitches |
| Blowing me off of the map and a matter of fact — I ain’t never had bitches |
| Killer City sinner Swillionaire |
| Pop a molly, put a drink in the air |
| I could be rotten or Akhenaten and with a rocking Ankh and a lock of my hair |
| Fuck if I care, fuck if I’m rare |
| I could be cutting the muck of the mayor |
| Wavy in the midi really we coming |
| Shake it up and I’m dumping the flare |
| Fan out, find him, find him, I need a necklace |
| A needle plus a package, a crash can complete the checklist |
| What I need is R&R when I’m buzzing as big as Texas |
| In the whip with no brakes, hitting the gas |
| Nigga, I’m reckless |
| Nigga, do you know who I am? |
| Nigga, do you know who I am? |