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crimeapple - pacers كلمات الأغنية

pacers lyrics
[intro]
listen
take this (come on, man)
come on, please
tu me conoces (you know how this works, man)
pero tu me conoces
woah

[verse 1]
you can’t short me for the pierogi (nah)
your head is light, you bear for life like charles oakley (f_ck outta here)
smack the stogie off his rotten tooth (ayo)
take a couple cash calls, i’m back to choppin’ fruit (woah)
brought the goose to the clubhouse, sm_t the duck out
get the f_ck out, threw the nut out
pull the truck out, real ones couldn’t wait for this sh_t to come out
i’m spittin’ like the dugout, most rappers handicapped (woah)
worldstar captions like, “jimmy vs. timmy wright”
i’m viewed in a different light, coffin all kryptonite
your chick love the sh_t i write, you pillow talk, we pillow fight
ball like armadillo, temperamental, switch the color scheme
from baby blue to money green, white gold on my bunny t__th
gimme alll the carrots, lil’ buster
bugs and daffy on ya sweater, metralleta on the mesh now (grrrt)
steppin’ on that thing like it’s a stepchild
[chorus]
but let’s keep that on a need_to_know (shhhh)
call the d’s up like that’s a pick and roll
i’ll prolly still drop the nickel, though (nickel though)
you f_ckin’ round and miss the finger roll (miss the finger roll)
more mercy, that’s every bar i write
cross you in the garden with the hardest nights (hardest nights)
shootin’ like reggie, no regard for spite
i f_ck around and shoot out your lights (yikes)

[verse 2]
soundin’ like i’m on the cusp
used to sprinkle rix mix in the dutch, blowin’ kisses at my crush
i don’t get goosebumps, used to pray we made enough for a deuce lunch
then it was 40s dumped in ya fruit punch, don’t mistake my jovial nature
i switch my face up, we came for acres off the nomenclature (right)
opposition wanna see me in a steel container (right)
or a wooden one
he put that thing in his vein, ’cause i was cookin’ some
gave my friend great advice, like “don’t f_ck with this”
now he live outside the store and his stomach itch
dirty [?] he made his mother sick (hehe)
seen him recently, he smilin’ like “what’s up witchu?”
nothin’ much, my pen move like kim jong with a [?]
he said “cool”, i gave him loot, said “do what you do”
he went to cop some dog food from my man lou
ooh
[chorus]
ayo, you snoozin’, what you thinkin’ bruh?
play the d up and do the pick and roll
i’ll prolly still drop the nickel, though (nickel though)
you f_ckin’ round and miss the finger roll (miss the finger roll)
more mercy, that’s every bar i write
cross you in the garden with the hardest nights (hardest nights)
shootin’ like reggie, no regard for spite
i f_ck around and shoot out your lights (yikes)

- crimeapple

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