Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Perfect Plex, artist - Westside Gunn. Album song Fourth Rope, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 11.04.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Griselda
Song language: English
Perfect Plex |
| Ay, yo |
| Ay, yo |
| Jeremy Scott, Moschino apron |
| Used to do 100 up’s, 100 dips on a yard baking |
| We spent the max of commissary, sly coming home in Neveruary |
| He washed my hands, I washed his, you talking, you’ll get buried |
| Valentino velour suits in the mess hall, sucka think he prettier than me, |
| cut his neck off |
| Keep slacking, MAC-11 out the G-Wagon |
| , pistol-whip the kid, he picked his teeth up |
| Zipper bust on the angle duffle when we re’d up |
| Fiends on the block haven’t seen this cashmere ski-mask shit |
| The heat blasting, Gina’s titties sagging while she bagging |
| Suede prada jackets, Balenciaga’s burgundy |
| Tom Ford still wanna murder me for nothing |
| Different color shark heads, BAPEin' |
| He shot up and started shaking |
| He fell through a glass wall, I hit the backdoor |
| Praise me, I’m so elegant |
| Used to rock the Alex McQueen, with the skeleton |
| Elephant tusks on the Cartiers, got me looking all intelligent |
| Every shell hit him, I’m the perfectionist |
| Mr. Perfect, Bobby Heenan fiending |
| Perfect Plex the brick, broke it down, it got me rich |
| Perfect Plex the brick, broke it down, it got me rich |
| Like Bob, I shot the sheriff |
| My lady chill behind the wheel of the Silver Seraph |
| His body lay still, I sip the chill beverage |
| Devilish endeavors and levers to quench my never-ending list of pleasures |
| Bitches send pictures naked, dripping necklace |
| No pig in this breakfast, the stick could get your Mrs. pregnant |
| She said her man played for the Knicks, this nigga 6'11 |
| She begging, I skeeted liquid on Egyptian bedding |
| I’m not the kid to threaten, my niggas’ll kick your head in |
| My facial hair is cashmere, Pink diamonds to glare, look like Bel-Air |
| Balmain Pierre, feel like we ate pears, copped like 8 pairs |
| I’m a complicated man, that’s a used Porsche Cayenne on pants |
| My laundry’s a 40g orgy |
| Talks of lawyer fees in Portuguese, my wrist is a quarter key |
| The Corniche seats is coffee, The chauffeur driver caught 14 |
| That nigga head leaking like egg florentine |
| The Jag coups, the color of passionfruit |
| I’m packing, life’s a crap shoot |
| The Penny’s black and blue, spray the MAC off the roof |
| I’m just testing it |
| Shit I hit everything, they thought I was Petrović |
| Shots perpetuous |
| Give you some wet red shit, dress you in |
| Perfect Plex the brick, I almost broke the rollie president |
| Perfect Plex the brick, I almost broke the rollie president |