EasterGunn Day 4 Freestyle lyrics


[Intro: Keisha Plum]
Cleanse my hands in Holy Water
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
They taught us patience in them scriptures
Yet the streets made us vicious
Hoodie pastel, scorpion and scales
Double shots of D'USSÉ, blunt filled with Pluto
And we love to torture slow
Tried to pray that devil away
Cut his tongue, since he has so much to say
What the f**k you n***as thought?
It's Easter Gunnday

[Skit: 50 Cent]

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
Ayo, hopped out the fiend rental (Skrrt)
Drug deals cover my mental, Fear of God sweatsuits very essential
TEC-12 with the silencers on 'em, you hear the whistle (Pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew)
Mercedes Wagens, no door, Randy Savage
East side Survivor Series, lost the coke [?] Patrick (Ah)
In central bookin', all my jewels on, it look like Virgil cooked it
My balcony is ocean overlookin' (Ah)
Ten beds, twelve baths, the red helicopter on the helipad
You hella mad, I'm rockin' sh*t you ain't never had (Uh-uh)
The Margiela Stella bag (Ah), Givenchys with the leather tag
Pino carrara hella fast (Skrrt), the sh*t'll never last
MCM Everlast, the pole Kevin Nash (Ah, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Bodies was tradition, wishin' (Ah)
I could see my n***as locked in prison again, f**k the system (f**k the system)
Scream "Free Kutter" 'til they free him (Free Kutter, ah), carpe diem
Shootin' out the grey BM (Skrrt), tryna whip the coke on Easter (Whip)
Rose gold Patek, rose gold Jesus with my features
Skeletons, we robbin' Nieman's (Ah)
Your family had you in the casket lookin' half-decent
In Trinidad with two b*t*hes, freaky, one Puerto Rican (Woo)
Slam the b*t*h like Tito Santana (Ah)
We was in the Taliban, n***as baggin' grams up (Ah)
I used to drive them highpoints up from Atlanta (Ah, skrrt)
Reclinin' in the 600, leanin' off the Fanta (Ah)
Terrell snitched on me, had a n***a in the slammer (Ah)
And [?] lunch at Dan Tana's (Ah)
I don't wanna shoot unless your sh*t got a banana (Brrt, brrt, ah, brrt)
Hundred round drum but I don't think you understand 'em (Ah, brrt)

[Interlude: Westside Gunn & Mach-Hommy]
EasterGunn Day 4, n***a (B'rrt)
And I don't give a f**k about none of these n***as, lord
Man, f**k these n***as (La, la la la, la la)
You know how much f**kin' money I made since part three, n***a? (La, la la la, la la)
I'm not payin' attention to these n***as, man (La)
I don't give a f**k about none of this sh*t, man (f**k 'em)
I do what I do (I do what I do, ah)
Everything I f**kin' do, n***as steal it, man (Ooh)
I can't have sh*t, n***a (Can't have sh*t, n***a)
Y'all n***as is f**kin' bums, man (f**kin' bums, do your own sh*t, n***a)
My motherf**kin' dog richer than you n***as, man (Word to Westside Angel)
My dog eat better food than you, n***a (Peace to Westside Angel)
And I don't even know what you- listen
n***as be talkin' slick sh*t in these f**kin' interviews, man (Ah)
I seen that sh*t, man, I laughed, though (Hahaha)
I was in the f**kin' back of a Cullinan, n***a (Hahahaha)
And I know what y'all n***as drivin' (La, la la la, la la, la)
But look, you know what season it is (Ah, know what f**kin' season)
Hitler Wears Hermes motherf**kin' 8, n***a (Brrt)
Sincerely Adolf (Brrt, ah)
I'm 'bout to f**k the whole world up again (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Listen, Part seven was better than y'all n***as catalogs, man (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Came right back, did Pray for Paris (Ah)
I do this sh*t with no effort, n***a (With no effort, n***a)
I'm 'bout to move to Paris, n***a, just start paintin' (Oui, oui)
This rap sh*t too easy
How the f**k you gon' be the best at some sh*t that you don't even wanna do? (The f**kin' GOAT, n***a)
And y'all n***as try hard to get to this sh*t (f**kin' catch up, I'm the f**kin' GOAT, n***a)
I would say "Take my spot", but then I'd be a f**kin' bum (La, la la la, la la, can't do that)
I would switch spots, but then I'd be a f**kin' bum (La, la la la, la la, can't do that)
But, yo, after 8, we droppin' Pray for Haiti (Ah, ah)
You know what that mean, right? (Ayo, brrt, ah)

[Verse 2: Mach-Hommy]

My n***a I feel no pain, got anesthesia
International man of leisure, Mach-opez
Dang, you must have fried your brain on that cocaine
[?], n***as so vain
Situation gettin' hairy like Rogaine
Wouldn't be surprised to hear they pulled a Kurt Cobain
Rather eat d**k and [?], that's so lame
Should go and start a book club, you f**kin' no name
You think Pharrell hang with Roscoe P. Coldchain?
You think Kevin Hart still in touch with the cast of Soul Plane?
My youngest packin' stadiums way out in Spokane
For the hypebeast that love Supreme, we like Coltrane
Smoke you like [?], dumpin' out the rental
They already know how Imma spin you, told you on the menus
n***as book you online like a Kindle
The battles [???] and them singles
My work seminal

While I'm in a Range Rover receivin' fellatio
And you n***as on Twitter tryna ratio
That ain't today's mathematics
Word to A.A. Rashid, they look at me as a savage
The other half is addicts, pill

[Outro: Mach-Hommy]

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