Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Maraca, artist - Smino. Album song blkswn, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.03.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Zero Fatigue
Song language: English
Maraca |
Listen I, I don’t believe in maybe, prolly |
Only off, and on, overthinking had me idle |
Kiss my dice, and throw, this Remy got my gut on fire |
I gotta drive home still, one eye open |
Seeing Dos on the road, oh no |
Life insurance is really doin' exactly what you like |
And love 'cause that’s that shit that keep the fire lightin' up |
Get out the dark and spark, yeah |
Gon' head, lighten up |
No gravity on me, one with the sky |
Maraca, maraca, we make somethin' shake |
Sinatra, Sinatra, we all want Frank |
Bend my heart, bend my eye, but I won’t break |
Gratata pop out like hot bread |
Don’t burn tongue ma, trine bite down so quick |
Wait ya turn |
Might let you participate |
I feel like Percy, No Limit, uh |
We don’t believe in their parameters |
All my niggas on perimeter |
I’m on they ass like an enema |
And all my enemies been friending up |
Like Monica and Chandler |
You see this bass can break a chandelier |
And this verse just cracked a bannister |
Man I pray the crowd can stand in here |
Bruh it’s so many hands in here |
Niggas’ll think we selling manicures |
I never view myself as amateur |
And when it’s just me, myself and marmalady |
I give her the seeds so sweet, shawty that pomegranate |
Couldn’t imagine myself takin' this shit for granted |
Life ain’t even granted |
Off the strength, I’m brown-skinned |
Shit ain’t sweet, no candy grace my tongue |
Just bitter back taste |
Runnin' for the cheese, definition of the rat race |
Put the pedal to the floor mat |
We only kick it w-where the dough’s at |
Maraca, maraca, we make somethin' shake |
Sinatra, Sinatra, we all want Frank |
Bend my heart, bend my eye, but I won’t break |
Gratata pop out like hot bread |
Don’t burn tongue ma, trine bite down so quick |
Wait ya turn |
Might let you participate |
I usually, usually, usually don’t do this |
So don’t you confuse this |
With school, bitch game ain’t free |
I’m booking my flight, got a suitcase |
Gotta move, bae |
Bada-bing-bada-boomaye |
Skrrt, peew on Suzuki |
That’s two wheels, if you will then I will |
If you scared then I feel, I feel you |
But if you real then I extract my grill |
And I snack on that 'til that blood sugar build |
We ain’t even meet and shawty want the gyro, woah |
Got the whole, zero, on a clear road, woah |
Nigga found his pen over off of Penrose |
My auntie stayed in the ville, no not talking J. Cole |
Blkswn time bomb, dropping 3−1-4 |
Last time I was in my city, all my people, they told me, nigga |
SHUT IT DOWN |
Yeah yeah, they told me, nigga |
SHUT IT DOWN |
They told me, nigga |
Listen I, I don’t believe in maybe, prolly |
Only off, and on, overthinking had me idle |
Kiss my dice, and throw, this Remy got my gut on fire |
I gotta drive home still, one eye open |
Seeing Dos on the road, oh no |
Life insurance is really doin' exactly what you like |
And love 'cause that’s the shit that keep the fire lightin' upp |
Get out the dark and spark, yeah |
Gon' head, lighten up |
No gravity on me, one with the sky |