koncept jack$on – rare paradigms lyrics
[these lyrics are intentionally locked and left partial due to a dmca takedown request. please do not edit the lyrics to include the removed sections.]
[verse 1: al.divino]
cocaine slopes was stable
red laser on the sk, i let it spray you won’t wake up again
bag a 10 outta 10 b-tch just to f-ck her friend
cup her hand, runeth over suckers pretend like they about sh-t
i doubt it, we keep an ounce lit
nothing but that dower power drive the book of powder
outstanding what that b-tch could sniff in an hour
one thing i could never tolerate is a coward
i’m f-cking cougars at the [?]
pedaling medicine from medellín
by any means but i’mma get it in, know that
kodak black playing in the background, packed crowd
walked in the show they didn’t pat me down
so if drama pop off, i’mma finish it
strictly that fly sh-t, ya’ll know what the business is
his figure face is probably f-cking up the autopsy
sawed off shotty, this the ghost of john gotti
i’m at the barclay’s center on the floor
ya’ll the type to put a diamond ring on a wh-r-
what the f-ck is that?
ferragamo flannel looking like a lumberjack
just tryna put my city on the map
pretty rap, ya’ll piggybacking the next man
catch me at your college dorm doing the keg stand
twisting up a zip of headband
don’t have my money on time? you’s a deadman
[verse 2: koncept jack$on]
my city full of jerry lawless
i bury all ya
the cherry cough at the medical card, that’s very thoughtful
my petty broad angel wake me to pet it raw from a side angle
wet [?]
but your lies [?]
we hopscotch on blocks that dangerous son
you c-ckblockin’ plots cause you couldn’t hang with us
lame with the movement
think with the truest
rather be the game than you knew it
mangle your crew
you too, saints with the bangers that don’t do sh-t
n-gg-s to-to
watching your town, pardon my back
i’m live with my garden and stash gats
andromeda stats
palming the -ss, b-mp the slow jam, roll flannel
f-ck the drama and backage, [?] and hold hands, perform -n-l
when it’s in the fine tune, pop wines from 9 june’s
to go, we’ll fly up in a timeless monsoon
yo, rob jewels at [?]
down from the hidden temple
that’s my dope spot
n-gg-
[verse 3]
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