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fast weekends - mushroom kingdom lyrics
(verse 1: yung figaro)
slump as f-ck i’m happy, all my shooters they from cali, all my shooters they stay ready, window gang sh-t gets heavy (gang gang). b-tch we’re swerving down the street, knife pulled, blood leak. ‘got your b-tch in my bed sheets, that p-ssy tastes real sweet. four blunts to the face, police giving chase. homicide get away, we’re escaping like i’m oj. okay, your b-tch, your mama, we just had a three way. don’t play, k!ll all you p-ss-es like its d-day. this beat go hard but braedon’s going harder. took that b-tch out to dinner, f-cked her, went home, then forgot her (god d-mn). diamonds wet, rain water (splash). my name’s up on the blotter. using magic on these hoes, you can call me harry potter. ‘f-cked your daughter and your mama and your b-tch, yuh. flip an ounce in a day, that’s a cinch, yuh. newport boys be like can i get a pinch, yuh. f-cking on a couple twins which is which, which is which, which is which, yuh. hair curly, looking like i permed it. drunk driving, no license, not even a permit. ab boys making noise, yeah i f-cking heard it. ab boys making noise, you p-ss-es sound r-t-rded
(verse 2: cekil)
new money? old money? don’t even care. walk in the party, they stop and they stare. fake window gang, not an inclusion. we stay rolling up all that tropical fusion. girls want me i’m swisher sweet. covered in gucci, look at my feet. wrapped in preme, bogo my hat. brand new whip, would ya look at that, aye. i’m dropping bars in my fanta, aye. i’m dropping gifts like i’m santa, aye. brand new jewels all in my chain, yuh. f-ck slowing down, we in the fast lane, yuh. better run for the hills, better run for your life. i’m strapped like jason, my mask and my knife. i’ll read you a story then kiss you goodnight. bye bye, i won’t see you later. made all this cash now i flex on my haters. made all this cash, now my life is insane. i got a new whip, b-tch get out of my way. gold chain, reverse cross. stay rocking gucci, i feel like a boss. in the kitchen, whipping my sauce. i painted her face and she called me bob ross. okay, f-ck looking back, i got them hoes and i got me some racks. feeling real good i just smoked up a bag. your sh-t is mid, i be flipping straight gas. i’m feeling high as a kite. promethazine all in my sprite
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