#пи! подогреваент предверее вроде бы сегондя обжедаемого епешненга о так же новой колекцее про егрушечную одежку фрестайленгом поверх хек-жоента про дрезедрейка Dreams Money Can Buy. Судя по нижепреведеным лерексам контпозицея поствещаентсо вовсе не консексу.
Pusha T – Don’t Fuck With Me
The nerve of you, he’ll sit and clip at your lines like he ain’t heard of you…
I seen it happen before, that man will murder you.
The lowest form of a thief is a cat burglar. Tiptoe-in but the whole time clonin’*. The elephant’s in the room, the bitch glowin’.
Like a ghetto girl with the good weave sewn-in, she walk like its hers but the whole world knowin’.
Told n—as it’s the new god flow, it’s that new testament and that old god* knows. and you new n—as don’t get to pass GO, I’ll monopolize boardwalk empire flow.
So don’t mention me in the same breath, I’m Genghis. Just venting I never wish to be famous. Truth told I’d much rather be strangers, before it leads to me turnin’ n—-s to angels.
Local n—-as hatin’ but I can’t blame ‘em. Cleared the road to the riches but I can’t pave ‘em. Put Trey up on your hook, still couldn’t save ‘em*. Better chance with a snowball hittin’ Satan.
Dreams money can buy, three racks just spent on my Marty McFlys. Now I’m back to the future, my career deja-vu you, when you muthaf–kers thought I would barely survive….
Rappers on their sophomores*, actin’ like they boss lords. Fame such a funny thing for sure when n—as start believing all those encores, I’m just the one to send you off, bonjour*. See yourself as I pull up in that mirror tint, skins vs blouses, you mirror Prince*. Chappelle Show, all them Neal Brennans*, sketch comedy, who is for real penning? The talk don’t match the leather, the swag don’t match the sweaters*, the wolves don’t walk with shepherds. These Margiela verses all of you mall dwellers, off-the-rack suits looking like pallbearers. Coffins for my old bitches’ orphans, Daddy’s MIA like a dolphin, play the Fendi bucket like a sharkfin*, Cool J-ing on you bitches but I’m dark-skinned. We walked in, seats courtside, dap Diddy, Will Ferrell on my walk by. At the US Open, there’s much more to Queens, Versace blu-blockers, row behind Oracene*….
Push…no shots….but nothing goes unseen.
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