Lyrics Crumbs - Speak

Crumbs

I told you, it’s that West Side Art Goon Craigslist Killer Shit
That best in the west
That pervert life shit
That best in the world
They can’t fuck with Speakinho anymore
Easy fucking money!
Weed crumbs in my Mac Book
Bitches in my black book
Good for that head but they got to go
They can’t cook
Little cochina shaking ass en mi cocina
I think her name Sabrina (what?!)
She might be a ballerina (what?!)
Shots of that tequila, now she call me maravilla
With tattoos on her face, trying to be like Pata Fria
I park her like a Kia, roll that pussy like a Porshe
Of course, she sucking dick until her voice is hoarse (perv)
Now, that is when I gallop, oysters and the scallops
But you were on that little shrimp scampi and them salads
My hair is bigger than a Bon Jovi ballad
I’m stepping foot in any hood, they tell me that I’m valid (perv)
They tell me that your boys bobbing, weaving like you Floyd (perv)
You smoking like a fiend lurking in the shadows paranoid
That ain’t my business, lord can I get a witness?
My future baby momma got the fitness of a gymnast
She doing yoga love them crystals and the Maharishi
But still she super freaky, fuck me in that Mitsubishi (perv)
My crown chakra on another world you couldn’t reach me
Word to Kon, life is peachy, Speaky rapping beasty
I been crunk, polo horses on my swim trunks
This shit is easy, where my chopsticks where my dim, son
I feel like Big Pun, I feel like big
Vader on a hater but I make it out to Sada
My boots are alligator (perv) my grin is crocodile (perv)
God bless the USA my style Colonel Guile
Outro:
(…gave a fuck about Speakinho!)
Motherfuckers!
(Hat trick all on a bitch!)
I told them, they couldn’t fuck with me!
The legendary.
Let’s get it