Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Fabric, artist - Mean. Date of issue: 15.03.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Fabric |
| Raf Simons vandal boots |
| Be the Holy Grail |
| That Junya Watanabe still a fairy tale |
| Shine like bright lights hangin' |
| On the ferris wheel |
| I grind like tough soles stomping |
| On the heavy steel |
| I‘m heavy still, steady skilled |
| Really i’m dressed to kill |
| I swear I will murder cats |
| In my Margiela GATs |
| Workwear ready when I |
| Put on my bucket hat |
| Chambray, Visvim Serra Boots |
| And high water slacks |
| I’m on another level |
| You still climbing the steps |
| I’m bout that grown menswear |
| We of a different stat |
| Chronograph watches tick-tock |
| Got all ‘em haters mad |
| That wrist game proper (ching-ching) |
| Got all 'em haters scared |
| Like Jil Sander cuts |
| I’m a real work of art |
| Mixing lean, sippin' pink |
| Slowly strolling down the boulevard |
| CDG Play’d out, your synergy way out |
| My Superfuture mellow flow |
| Will blow your brains out |
| I’ve got a little hope |
| Come and save us from this ugly truth |
| We do what’s neccesary |
| By any means |
| See dreams materialise |
| We visionaries |
| I got this freckled bitch |
| She heavenless |
| This freckled bitch |
| She never sips |
| Just watch me get sloppy |
| And cocky, hold down my posse |
| She got me |
| Coke in the nostrils of all |
| The other bitches |
| Love my bitch she cop when |
| My body is rocking lean withdrawals |
| Cops couldn’t stop us from mobbing |
| We gon' get it all |
| Asshole task force |
| You can’t get us all |
| Black dogs, asphalt |
| Leaning we dont fall |
| We Pisa fiends, barely seen |
| Through the greenery |
| Rap with the demons frequently |
| So evil ain’t a thing to me |
| Raf simons and heathenry |
| That leads my esteem increase |
| He thinks he’s the king |
| So just leave him be |
| My mise en scene |
| Is so fresh so clean |
| I know I be, I know I be so naive |
| But I’m a keep on steezin' |
| Till death knows me |
| All black hooded |
| Strapped with Guidi booted |
| A Gareth Pugh kid |
| With minds polluted |
| By French martells |
| By the shores of Marseille |
| Coated in Martin Margiela |
| Drkshdw ninja cartel |
| With minimal beats and sick poems |
| Style combination of Rick Owens |
| A gamma playa |
| Who rang the bell of Jeff Mills |
| We cold kids with chrome hearts |
| And black steel |
| Fuck a crack deal |
| We’ve got more dope |
| They can hang us |
| Sounds refined like |
| Alexander Wang’s cuts |
| Futuristic rhymes |
| Cyborgs of Chalayan |
| Words from Zam Barrett’s dialogue |
| Got you silent |
| Like the crafted works |
| Of Damir Doma |
| Hit hard and kick your |
| Kris Van Assche into a coma |
| Then you rest in peace like |
| Alexander Mcqueen |
| Let this tune flow |
| For the requiem |