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david chidiac - ricross lyrics

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[verse 1]
ga!!
enemies plenty call em kenny mccormick see
throwing punches i’m k!lling kenny constantly
fist red feel a f-cker soften
underneath my timbalands
rock the hublot 100 bands
fat stack payments
my accountants drive maybachs
ice on the dash when a b-tch wears grade-a bands
playing al green and a puff of green hit me
all these women melting and i ain’t even dizzy
she’s insistent that we leave the party go get busy
so i let her peak!
feel em melting as i speak
leaking all on my sheets
cleaning bill coming round about 5-g a week
hitting the goal
please don’t reach
can a young-blood stop me when i crossover this peak?
with the moves like jagger my swagger is reckless
might hit this b-tch that’s grabbing on my necklace
so you see
this sh-t is reflective
of my transitional sk!lls
they’re so reckless
i know
moves like this
expected
leave you staring
gaping
and hopefully breathless

[verse 2]
stealing second like i’m kenny lofton
roll the dice like i hit up vegas often
feel the crunch of a k!llers t–th, monster
fear not death but fear me constant
ice on the wrist bounce like rubber bands
moving like a smooth criminal do that michael dance
rock the single breasted suits and the timbalands
that’s the plan in this b-tch, we dress so elegant
fighting fire with fire you don’t stand a chance
out of the fire and into the frying pan
your -ss is g-ssed!

[verse 3]
thank god i’m able to drop the sh-t that rock
breaking through bad i’m the one who knocks
the lightning bolts striking i’m the one who shocks
death strikes fast i’m the paul bearer
precipitation that’s dangerous equals my reign of terror
it redefines the era
i rewrite the laws
reaching around grabbing you by my claws
forcing you to pause and pay the fine
regicide is your plan to remove the divine
yet i’m in my prime
how can you stop me
how can you top me
you’re running out of time
make up your mind
i’m like jordan game six my time to shine
rise above you and destroy you with my mind
all the non-believers,y’all better run and hide

[verse 4]
hold up now
this sh-t is incomplete
would i really be me if i didn’t bring up defeat?
my whole album feels like a shout-out to madness
failure and sadness, boredom and cr-ssness
i wish i had the same problems as these others, at least from a poetic sense i’d make you shudder
but when a door gets closed a window’s opened
so i stumble in
bumble in, through the cords, applause and roars
more like
“get the f-ck out of this sport”
i retort
“sport, the only thing i sport is a 5’7″ figure and a general knowledge bank of america”
so this is my mind
regurgitating sarcasm one rhyme at a time
is that really a crime?



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