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casisdead - steptronic (conducta remix) [mixed] lyrics

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[intro]
(conducta)

[verse 1]
steppin’ out the door, one thing in my thoughts, 944 in schwarz
foot to the floor, hear the roar of the sports exhaust, michelin pilot sports
see a big batty in the tiniest shorts like, “cor”, had me stiff as a corpse
l!ckin’ lipstick same colour as tomato sauce, hope she ain’t sore, what a sort (yeah)
see, i clocked that the hair and the nails all false, though i still wanna beat, of course
i get the hors d’oeuvres and the main course with just discourse, i ain’t gotta use force
man are ballin’, we soon touch forbes, parkin’ the porsche in my jordan 4’s
broads get the bum done on fraud, get caught and recover in jail abroad
n+ggas still poor, pretending they important, stuntin’ in rentals that ain’t insured

[verse 2]
yeah, stepped in the party wrecked
bare pop stars keep asking for ket’
racist sh+t should offend me except
well, i had a little bit as i recollect
singer tellin’ stories, gettin’ upset
’bout all the times she was pressured for s+x
yeah, she didn’t know that to find success
she’d have to blow as many record execs
i backed off, yeah i didn’t wanna press
imagine my shock as she bares her br++sts
almost felt bad watchin’ her undress
spat in her mouth as per her request
who am i to question this mess?
party was weird anyway, so i left
open each door, don’t know what to expect
found man in the pool, face down, dead



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