mischief - django lyrics
[producer tag]
rah, it’s bkay ya know?
[bridge]
swerve round on double l’s
and my young boys juice their rambos
half-birds no nandos
look caught wit dat like…
[verse]
tryna stretching dem yutes
cuh’ i still gotta make work stretch
count chips can’t take no checks
press waps and work gets pressed
zed’s go ’till nothing’s left
should’ve been doing cash
but these nerds talking waps, got man over dere instead
if ah man done me wrong, then i want dat man gone
not sure how they talk to feds
couldn’t make dat stuff make sense
pre’ dem guys playing ‘fense
had the team all-out-attack
i saw dem man play da fence
long time i’ve seen my friends
dem time stepped double skengs
i’m getting drops on opps
and tryna drill one up on dem
full-time, and i don’t do part
they new, don’t know the half
that corner link the worker
with this zed straight out da bath
got smoke still wake and bake
make bread with zero gluton
big pots, that’s c0ke i’m dropping
work drown like whitney houston
[hook x2]
ring, trap!
when i get these k’s, the bando
swerve around on double l’s
and my young g’s juice their rambos
put grams on backroads
then came back home with bankrolls
half-birds, no nandos
look caught wit dat like django
[verse]
like quentin tarantino
shoot man live, direct that works
ain’t deading beef or talking
lifestyle chorus of ‘no words’
still rolling in the deep-end
fly dem’ packs, dispatch these orders
my mans whip flipped, then blew up
left him reden’ like some orville’s
you know it if i’m on you
trust me you won’t need to ask
this corn with have you chef’n
couldn’t care if you don’t dance
like that one cuh she lang up
good gyals going bad like drake
i know dat ain’t no real love
she cause [?], not my name
put hunters on 3 hunters
then its s-a-d we skr
free smokeski, dats ah rider
stepped out gooses wit da fur
double s dats scribz and skeng
vouch they get round raising h-ll
my little bro too naughty
splashing man, judge gave him 12
[hook x2]
ring, trap!
when i get these k’s, the bando
swerve around on double l’s
and my young g’s juice their rambos
put grams on backroads
then came back home with bankrolls
half-birds, no nandos
look caught wit dat like django
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