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crimeapple & big ghost ltd - the tropicana lyrics

people be hittin’ my line like, “crime, you around?
i never know with you” (nah)
might be in la isla with tres es pulgadas n’ sh+t
ay yi yi
wooah
playin’ shawty cl+t like a bassist (woah)
dead white faces in my wallet like a racist
growing up my favorite movie was trading places
y’all tried hatin’, didn’t know how far i’d take it (oh you didn’t know)
i used to be on state+to+state sh+t
now [?] equate it with baby with the fake tits (you got fake ass titties)
y’all burnt like steak tips
workin’ on a master plan i’ma raise the steaks with (doma)
got a mastercard closet, got a facelift (doma)
brain like a macintosh, pocket full of cake mix (woah)
you see my whole clique take trips
your rap crew strictly internet, that’s some fake sh+t (that’s some fake sh+t)
man, y’all don’t even live life together (nah)
we bag b+tches in the club all night together (we really do though)
dudes better remember what i told ‘em
how you in a rap group that’s dependent on a modem? (how?)
huh
think twice before approachin’
i might just have the time, i might just give you a moment (yeah i might b+tch)
but today is a different day, manteca at a festival in france, dudes rockin’ at a sip+and+paint
so imagine them havin’ sh+t to say (imagine that)
new clock all water like it’s got a missin’ face (ding ding ding)
i’m in a different sp+ce, usually where ben is at
only way i’m goin back and forth is a tennis match (woah)
i eat watercress, asparagus, apricot (woah)
your b+tch wrappin’ hands around my d+ck, you just rap a lot (you just rap a lot)
mm
you probably prayin’ that my passion stop (nah)
i just hop in a drop and peel back the top (skrrt)
if you could ever catch up with ya’ plans to k!ll
talk about spinnin’, it’s ‘cause i threw a banana peel (woo)
but go ‘head and tell me how your crew winnin’
you sittin’ in ya’ crib, i’m in peru wearing linen (d+mn)
the true meaning of independence
made a empire without [?], throwing me chicken (woah)
and that just made me more vicious
gotta be grateful, i used to watch my people sniff sh+t
god don’t make mistakes
the devil made plenty like lettin’ me get money
it’s kinda like a taste of blood (grr)
stand next to motherf+ckers, i don’t get paid enough (nope)
nah, i’m allergic to bozos
heavy ass betero piece smothered in rose gold (sh+t is heavy dawg)
pretty ironic when you serve allah
i’m like a work of art wearin’ a work of art
woah

- crimeapple big ghost ltd lyrics

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