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estee nack & futurewave - eddiebernays كلمات أغنية

[interlude]
some guys tried to make it by stick_ups
and of course, they’re wasted
some guys tried to do it by poppin’
and of course, soon or later, they get it wasted

[intro]
yeah, we gon’ make this sh_t complete
i ain’t f_ckin’ around, son (yo, son)

[verse 1: estee nack & al.divino]
shanghai, silent words [?] man you stand by, let his hands fly (wah_tah)
power ranger, n_gga, made by a bandit, sandite (he burnin’)
grams collide (oh yeah), son, i be leavin’ the bands tied (money)
flip it like it’s pan_fried, son, i’m winnin’ it by a landslide, j_pan fly (sayonara)
stay inside, a plain tidal wave crashin’ on to the rival gang
simon sayin’, son, i ain’t playin’ with you n_ggas, time to train (start practicin’)
motion picture for idol brains, high_end ranges, sign of danger, listen
we not designed the same, stop the slander (ad_lib)
public relation from propaganda, edward bernays
cell psychology, rocks for the gander (what you need?)
soldiers fallin’ in to line, i’m a proper commander (salute)
enjoy the comfort in tropical lands
bandanas, panoramas, hundred thousand bands, sandwiches, hidden cameras
hood santas (ho_ho_ho), gifts for everybody
written stanzas, bar bandits (deuze trey)
seven bad b_tches in big cabanas, hit ya man up (bow_bow_bow_bow)
bang hammers, slang gammas
ninety nine point nine percent of your life gone, rifle arm (cl!ck)
stop actin’ like you strong (f_ck outta here)
write this on righteous songs, alarms (peace)
i need more money in my palms, open arms (i need it)
all this sh_t i drop mostly pow (boom, ayo)
[verse 2: al.divino]
camouflage, drugs _n_log, brain fog
land of the lost, hunnid thou’ handguns (ay)
the type of parties, turn cameras off (uh_huh)
cambodian dime dance in the dark
make it hard, more than life
watch yours flash before you tryna break mine apart (you hear me?)
silent thoughts, lion heart
thought he had the juice, got parched infront the store (uh_huh)
life isn’t chess with the timer off (uh_uh)
improvised war, stole plays out my book
started a own style from a star (doot_doot_doot_doot_doot_doot_doot)
little big homies hungry like wild dogs
pimp slapped my [?], my uncle broke his jaw with a tire iron, god (bing)
apple didn’t fall far
perfect pump of percussion in the car
huntin’ all or nothin’, hungry to the core for more
solid of course, worst bums, soul on the sword (ka_ching)

[outro]
some guys tried to make it wrapped by using junk, yes
and of course, most of them are wasted
and then those that ain’t wasted
they watch your time, like in jail time
in jail house time

- estee nack futurewave

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