900K
[Skit]
‘Cause Mach is a fanatic, he’ll never be our ally
[Intro]
Back up, back up
Uh huh, yeah
[Verse 1]
Grammaton, gun kata
Shotter, it’s a don dada, burrata with your plum father (Brr)
I dare you to say “Bean eater” again
Spend, while my Mexican n***a flea flicker the skin (Do-do-do-do-do)
Skin of milk was blue like the money, so was the cheese
The flick was difficult, it’s no wonder no one succeed
But jeez, you still gotta stick the landing, glo up the glee (Nah, boy, nah)
Task force stinging rappers, hold up and freeze
Please, I pray the import tax
Bitch, you out your bracket (Trust me)
Then I tore up the lease
[?], dirty n***as get clapped
Pull up the truck, turn up the pressure on the nozzle, Lavoe
[Chorus]
Rès trankil, chill ([?] light)
Mèsi quoi c’est, mèsi wata
[?] (Bumboclaat)
Nèf san mil, où m’est-il? (Po-po)
Nèf san mil, ou a san mil, profest stil (Bumboclaat)
Rès trankil, chill
Mèsi quoi c’est, mèsi wata
[?] (Back up, back up)
Nèf san mil, où m’est-il? (Pwason)
(Yes)
Mwen san mil, ou a san mil profest stil (Bumboclaat)
(Ok)
[Verse 2]
The breathing method was Wim Hof
Sped off in that E-compressor, bitches relish the Benz sauce (Rrr)
Mortician never permits loss, lift off
When that gate compressor switch, the level unhinged, gosh (Back up)
Liquorice, kettle corn, mint, pop
Twist thoughts, whip ass, shit been living sped up the mid thrust (Got the other thing)
Gibberish is ghetto for mitzvah (Brr)
I speak the drip, n***as hitting levels that bridge gaps
This a different level, your shit not, n***a then watch
This lamentation in your bezel when it tick-tock
[Break]
Brand new vocations for the devil if this shit don’t pop
Deadass (Bumboclaat)
Deadass (Back up, back up)
[Chorus]
Rès trankil, chill ([?] light)
Mèsi quoi c’est, mèsi wata
[?] (Bumboclaat)
Nèf san mil, où m’est-il? (Po-po)
Nèf san mil, ou a san mil, profest stil (Bumboclaat)
Nèf san kills, chill
Mèsi quoi c’est, mèsi wata
[?] (Back up, back up)
Nèf san mil, où m’est-il? (Pwason)
Mwen san mil, ou a san mil, profest stil
(Bumboclaat)
[Skit]
[?], ni hao
There’s nothing to be frightened about until somebody starts shooting
‘Cause Mach is a fanatic, he’ll never be our ally
[Intro]
Back up, back up
Uh huh, yeah
[Verse 1]
Grammaton, gun kata
Shotter, it’s a don dada, burrata with your plum father (Brr)
I dare you to say “Bean eater” again
Spend, while my Mexican n***a flea flicker the skin (Do-do-do-do-do)
Skin of milk was blue like the money, so was the cheese
The flick was difficult, it’s no wonder no one succeed
But jeez, you still gotta stick the landing, glo up the glee (Nah, boy, nah)
Task force stinging rappers, hold up and freeze
Please, I pray the import tax
Bitch, you out your bracket (Trust me)
Then I tore up the lease
[?], dirty n***as get clapped
Pull up the truck, turn up the pressure on the nozzle, Lavoe
[Chorus]
Rès trankil, chill ([?] light)
Mèsi quoi c’est, mèsi wata
[?] (Bumboclaat)
Nèf san mil, où m’est-il? (Po-po)
Nèf san mil, ou a san mil, profest stil (Bumboclaat)
Rès trankil, chill
Mèsi quoi c’est, mèsi wata
[?] (Back up, back up)
Nèf san mil, où m’est-il? (Pwason)
(Yes)
Mwen san mil, ou a san mil profest stil (Bumboclaat)
(Ok)
[Verse 2]
The breathing method was Wim Hof
Sped off in that E-compressor, bitches relish the Benz sauce (Rrr)
Mortician never permits loss, lift off
When that gate compressor switch, the level unhinged, gosh (Back up)
Liquorice, kettle corn, mint, pop
Twist thoughts, whip ass, shit been living sped up the mid thrust (Got the other thing)
Gibberish is ghetto for mitzvah (Brr)
I speak the drip, n***as hitting levels that bridge gaps
This a different level, your shit not, n***a then watch
This lamentation in your bezel when it tick-tock
[Break]
Brand new vocations for the devil if this shit don’t pop
Deadass (Bumboclaat)
Deadass (Back up, back up)
[Chorus]
Rès trankil, chill ([?] light)
Mèsi quoi c’est, mèsi wata
[?] (Bumboclaat)
Nèf san mil, où m’est-il? (Po-po)
Nèf san mil, ou a san mil, profest stil (Bumboclaat)
Nèf san kills, chill
Mèsi quoi c’est, mèsi wata
[?] (Back up, back up)
Nèf san mil, où m’est-il? (Pwason)
Mwen san mil, ou a san mil, profest stil
(Bumboclaat)
[Skit]
[?], ni hao
There’s nothing to be frightened about until somebody starts shooting