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bronxclutch - the man in red lyrics

[verse]
there’s only one man left
rappers screaming all in our ears, like it’s the clutch man
tell me, do a number on a label
draw up all the oc’s and make ’em on the table
like, “it’s on me – put it on my desk, kid”
however you get there – draw it, make it, post it
you’re leaving on your face, forget
i crush the oc, hold it underneath, he could’ve lost it
told him tell ’em they stole it, he told her he lost it
she told him, “get off it,” and a bunch of other more sh+t
making money, oc’s be getting new leads
it’s like drinking coca+cola + stay spitting coke leaves
it’s a lead, give me some of what he had (nah)
soon as they wake up, choking like it was whooping cough
the group been soft
first hour at the unders bar and they’re tipping off
he went to get f+cked and get some neck by the side home
she asked him to sign her derriere, it read:
“to wide load, this dumb b+tch taste like fried toad t+rd
the clutch man”—take pride in code words
weird eye snot piece of sh+t with a cold heart
still be speaking in rhymes as a fast heart
study ‘how to eat to die’ by nicolas barry
no, he’s not too far from scaring the hoes off
and squeeze her thigh, maybe give her curves a feel
the same way she feel it when he flow with the sounds of s+x
they call the super when they need their back—uh, plumbing fixed
“how is only one left? the clutch and friends come in three
whatever happened with you and me?”
a man tried to slide in with you and i
and got caught like, “what the f+ck you doing, g?!”
don’t make him get hit by the godd+mn trolley
matter fact – “not for nothing, right now, you and me!”
looser than a pair of adidas
i hope you brought your spare liters
oc’s summing a square of ideas
rapping and dancing like the man in red
luke clutch came to do the thing again, no matter who be blingin’
he do it for the smelly hubbies
big dan do you know what time it is, it’s time for stickmen
few can do it, even fewer can even master it
take it from the dude who wear a red jacket like a man’s gauntlet
he plots songs like laundries
handing out, one, two, three—more subscribers, please!
run the cash and you won’t get a red sweatshirt
the mic is the shotty: n0body move, n0body get hurt
bring heat like the boy done gone to war
he came in the door and – “everybody on the floor!”
a whole string of fans like we on tour
every night, made the score, coming to your corner door”

- bronxclutch lyrics

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