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kay gold - 2017 last day assembly rap كلمات الأغنية

[verse 1]
ac on the beat, so you know it’s ice cold
hope you stranger find paradise that i twice rolled
my dice loaded, my ice frozen, my price rosen
you might notice my flight lotus, i slime mold
i scale walls while you making whale calls
why you think i make it rainfall on baseball?
i fish a price, you say-saw, i ray charles
i’m a great cause for g-ydars and graveyards
i’m on to bigger things, i’m sarah lawrence bound
i wear performers down, wicked kings is chicken wings
i terraform a cloud to check if you were listening
and wear each-finger rings glistening, staring swords in clowns
aaron sorkin sound, i’m on my west wing
the newsroom who’s-whom next best thing
i got a few good men in my social network
steve jobs money, i ball, lettuce and dressing

[sample]
– “a million dollars isn’t cool. you know what’s cool?”
– “you?”
– “a billion dollars.”

[verse 2]
jerm, your word salad is foul, won’t even lettuce duck
a thousand eyelids and optic oceans to get unstuck
mad that these mural or money movements a minute late
philosophizing on coffin sizes and dinner plates
surrounded by these crimes, we still cannot commit
no message, no tenet, no scholarship
suspectly mad-nice empty advice and hollow tips
dance around beats like d. feld around politics
rocketship, take off
pumping with the voltage, john travolta, this a face-off
this that steak sauce, that break-off, that kitkat
six roles in two shows in six days, i did that
call me they, call me kay, call me what i’m called
como se llama? conoce lama, don’t get involved
call me the greatest, debate it, don’t call me late for the table
don’t tell me “watch what we’re doing” then make me pay for the cable
resurrect a forebear spitting four bars
tried to write my way to heaven, but the door’s barred
act like your rights don’t mean as much as your report card
that’s why our president as ugly as our courtyard
never really could fit in, i need a physician
i drink your commitments to see and listen when i’m sneaking these disses
feeble musicians, i leave ‘em in the fetal position
i cook in the streets, serve looks in the sheets, and sleep in the kitchen
pan across and y’all panhandle, gender blender, that’s a pan panel
reyne been whipping that white van, got ‘em hollering like d-mn, daniel-san
wax off, i got the mask off, i played the game, became the last boss
act-jacking rappers hit the jackpot, you a mascot, i’m a rap god
always been immune to the apathy
got pity for a rapper coming after me
despite the fact i see faculty who ain’t fans of me
i back-to-back a masterpiece, in fact, let’s see (what else is going on, uhhh…)

- kay gold

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