Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Supreme Codeine, artist - Mello Music Group. Date of issue: 20.01.2022
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Supreme Codeine |
| Well I’ll be damned, guess who escaped outta the convent |
| I must be a nun 'cause you ain’t fuckin' with what I spit |
| These virgin raps’ll murder cats |
| You think you hot shit? |
| Well watch these turds collapse |
| I flush number 2s and send 'em to the porcelain gods |
| You end up on the news if you think of touchin' my squad |
| You be wavin' spirit fingers to your family, so bring it on |
| I don’t mean art school when I say the heat is drawn |
| Niggas get their cheetah on, sprintin' |
| If it’s too hot then get out of Hell’s kitchen |
| I don’t mean the restaurant, I’m in the upper echelon |
| Of these wack rappers, they about to get their stretcher on |
| I stick a fork in these potato heads, turn 'em to potato wedge |
| I’m out to get the butter with the toast if you makin' bread |
| With that low fat, y’all niggas low fat |
| Send you to the angels, Shwayze, where ghost at |
| Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine |
| C-c-codeine, c-c-co |
| Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine |
| C-c-codeine, c-c-co |
| Rap niggas, need to be lookin' at the front door, you wack niggas |
| Niggas stylin' |
| Wave’s like audio files |
| Waves like rivers, Jack Ripper, you hear the alleyway snickers |
| Crooked laughter |
| Niggas lookin' like slave masters |
| They asked us if we could pass spliff |
| We was like, «Of course, we have to» |
| Rattle the rafters, tip over the boat |
| They was like, «Don't look the chef in the eye» |
| And pay the pastor, definite fly |
| Cold case, closed casket, the game isn’t alive |
| Until witch doctors came in this bitch and zombified it |
| If you ain’t fresh with the lines |
| Toodoloo, expose mass niggas with rhymes like Scooby Doo |
| Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine |
| C-c-codeine, c-c-co |
| Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine |
| C-c-codeine, c-c-co |
| Yeah hopscotch |
| Kids swingin', listen close, you hear the blocks talk |
| Kingpins be makin' deals and while the cops watch |
| Just tryna take flight |
| In this cold world we all for breakin' ice just like some rock salt |
| Speakin' of the language, hot heads let the Glock talk |
| Gunpowder play |
| Stumpin' niggas, makin' wine out some sour grapes |
| Minus the old barrels |
| Steel belts |
| Vivid enough to give you chills like some slushees |
| Puttin' chrome where it’s rusty |
| Makin' bangers outta somethin' dusty |
| Off the scuzzy, kitten like a hammy yeah these yappas can’t touch me |
| Full contact, yeah it’s like I’m playin' rugby |
| Trust me, I’m takin' trips 'cross the interstate |
| Just to build with greats |
| Fools fuel me, I can feel the hate |
| Mothafuckas |
| Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine |
| C-c-codeine, c-c-co |
| Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine |
| C-c-codeine, c-c-co |