lunar c - sb.tv warm up sessions lyrics
yeah, still always into something
kush in a strawberry vanilla blunt skin
so zoned out, smoke clouds they’ll be filling london
i rolled down with something funky in my bud tin
and stunk up the tube with my headphones bumping
for those who don’t know, lunar c’s my name
the other day jamal called me like, “ayy
we want you to do a video for beats by dre”
i thought, “sh-t, this must be my day,”
let me set it off, so flylingual and swagnificently fresh
i’ve got your girlfrind giving me free head like the devil’s dog
just when you thought it was safe, i took your audience away
they look in awe and amazement, they my aura on stage
bruv you should call it a day
need to come clean and stop chatting f-ckery
but if having haters is what happens when you succeed
i mustn’t be doing very well cause everybody loves me
nah i’m joking, i’ve been seeing some hate
but that don’t stand for sh-t, like the c in my name
and i’m getting ’nuff loves and respect
coz i’m young, hungry and fresh
good looking and blessed, but f-cked up in the head
on my last video on sb, i murked a dealer on it
so i didn’t wanna talk about weed to be completely honest
but this beat’s from chronic so that’s got to be the topic
we be smoking, hang glider high on a trip
i was zoning and flatlined when i hit the spliff
so i’ve been stoned since a past life i’m high spirited
i’m so laid back my p-ssport photo is landscape
you posers act g-y, in my backpack i’ve got some rope so act brave
i’ll tie a loop and leave you hanging like i don’t do handshakes
and f-ck your whole movement your rep is undeserved
and i’m not listening to your bullsh-t i’m unconcerned
i stick my d-ck in the ground like “f-ck the world”
and f-ck that pause-punch style that you clones are spitting
like “you ain’t got no bars, open prison”
you hate me because my accent and my flow is different?
you ain’t even got the brains to have your own opinion
i go the distance cause i’m so persistent
and i can do anything, there ain’t no restriction. i’ve got
nothing against the pope or christians but i’ve got my own religion
on top of that i control the solar system
f-ck with lunar c and what do you think will happen?
i’ll take a steroid and do pull-ups on the rings of saturn
that iller rapping northern kid that stinks of ganj
and still rocks his clothes bare baggy like it’s still in fashion
the other day someone set me up
i was getting rushed, but when i looked at them they ended up
running away because my eyebrows are hench as f-ck
do beware, act rude and there’ll be fists flying through the air
you can lean back or get spun like you’re sat at a computer chair
these dudes are scared like a virgin playing truth or dare
my thoughts are outside the box like female pubic hair, yeah
i’m so g-ssed up, i payed an entry fee to join my own fan club
yeah i’m so c-cky when my album drops i’ll buy it and sign my own copy
don’t watch me the flows godly, i’m so mean
i’ll take a whole sleeve of codeine and won’t even od
nah i’m joking i just smoke weed, i blow trees
cause this 9 to 5 has got lunar stressing
cause rhyming’s my true profession
while the rest are giving up and finding a new profession
my minds in a future tense i’m still trying to improve perfection
i need a chick on my arm with fat t-tties and -rs-
busting out her knickers and bra like nicki minaj
and i’m gonna rap till i make a billion
i’ll move abroad and buy my family a separate building
or i could buy my cars and rihanna and keri hilson look after my seven children
i stand out, you blend in to the back ground
rap’s answer to pacquiao and i don’t even need to block cause i’m the best hands down
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