| Narco, wash money like I wash clothes
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| Speedin' in the bronco
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| Yo
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| Yeah
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| Yeah
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| Yeah
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| Yo
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| We the real life Narcos
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| Even the dope got a bar code
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| I wash money like I wash clothes
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| Speedin' in the Bronco
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| Green in the Fanto
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| I’m from the state of hate, police raid your place
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| They don’t wanna see you shine like Bathing Apes
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| The gun reign supreme
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| Blood spatter their shirt like a Miskeen
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| Had a baby with a fiend
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| Too wavy off the Lean
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| Then my digital scale know what I mean
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| Too much weight then your scale’ll lean
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| Man, this is the American dream
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| I’m different, more disciplined, hope you listenin'
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| Still slingin' water and the christenin'
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| They miserable, that’s why they wanna belittle you
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| Even in the Bible, the righteous ones were ridiculed
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| Still kinda hopin' that the sky’s open
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| My eyes open like my mind’s open
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| I put a half E in the basketball
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| Pure raw, no cut or inositol
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| Put the burner to his face, no mask at all
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| Just gave him sign like, 'bitch, pass it off'
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| I move the product slow but I get it poppin' though
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| Bitch, I make a lotta dough
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| Cocaine kaleidoscope
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| The raw, the raw
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| Co-cocaine kaleidoscope
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| The raw, the raw
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| I got a cocaine kaleidoscope
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| The raw, the raw
|
| Cocaine kaleidoscope
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| The raw-the raw
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| I see the world through my cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| Co-cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| I got a cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| Cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw-the raw
|
| I see the world through my cocaine kaleidoscope
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| Hey, yo, man, let your bullshit walk
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| While my money talk and the forty-forty spark
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| I know the custom, upper face, hustle at my own pace
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| I weigh the coke by the eighths
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| You know it come in different colors
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| White, brown, tan, butter
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| We cook it up with the Moët
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| Give the fiends a double hit
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| Bitches tell me I’m the shit
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| Uh, I tell 'em call me by my first name
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| Because the dice hit your feet don’t mean you in the game (no), no
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| Every better grant it better (Grant it better)
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| Mother fucker, better get your shit together
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| Uh, homie, where your dough at?
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| Ace to a deuce, y’all better pray you don’t throw that
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| Quick to catch a body, I got the semi in a hemi
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| Niggas quick to catch a body, flee back to Trini'
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| Jyeah, contraband in the carry-on
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| My nigga vagabonds on that Barry Bonds
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| Juicers for life like the Ghost
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| Livin' off experience, hammer stay close
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| Montana had the hood bananas, thugs lived glamorous
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| Phones bugged, hand-to-hand caught on cameras
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| Ride the iron stallion matched with the battalion
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| Caught slippin', runnin' now’ll get slashed for that medallion
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| Catch a case, a couple thousand make a killin'
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| That’s a L on the jacket, murder raps and racketeerin'
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| Yeah, the God’s bars genius
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| Coke on the Soul Train, Don Cornelius
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| Pablo ran to Medellin, money in the cleaners
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| Carlito tried to leave the game but the streets need us
|
| OD, intravenous, son got a lot of dope
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| Every rhyme a line of broke
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| Cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| Co-cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| I got a cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| Cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw-the raw
|
| I see the world through my cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| Co-cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| I got a cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw, the raw
|
| Cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| The raw-the raw
|
| I see the world through my cocaine kaleidoscope
|
| Raw-raw-raw-raw |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Kaleidoscope , by - Termanology. Song from the album Bad Decisions, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп