planet asia - smut movie lyrics
ft. tzarizm & tristate
(verse)
i’m barefisted, clutchin’ the rap like it’s a loaded pistol
smackin’ b-tter out yo brawl like one of my b-tches
larger than life, long as my d-ck, corner pocket proof stick
keep a tool on the hip
the notable boss, allegorical notable thoughts
had you drippin’ soda water from the portable dots
mend ya n-gg-, now her ride a kit fenderbender
steel shimmer with four ? of rain type glimmer
slick with the ruler, brian papa jr.
koogar, with bad shots flyin’ out my rooga
i’m the dope man, dope man, shufflin’ wet
hard white crystal chips like you f-ckin’ with meth
amphetamine, squeeze, matter gettin’ creamy
in severed jeans turn nightmare into betta jeans
pirouettes look the king, york bring force like
the millionaire marchin’ thru yo team force
(hook)
supreme st-tch from the dynasty, swept out my oracle
flat as the animal within the make-up of mankind
this ain’t yo ordinary manual
this annual gladiator demonstrations
for n-gg-s that can’t rhyme disturb us
bottom of the barrel, you’ve been logged 0% of the song
so no purpose, no tricks
i’m in the mix with the nerves and the service, my man
it’s touring the globe and murdering verses
(verse 2)
we from the bungalo’s
the cl-sses from where the back is gulfed
for no reason, you got the gun on you
tumatone has stopped dealin’ dope, but down on the ropes
haunted by the post-traumatic stress of being broke
closest to padre and seein’ the kid go
open ya eyes to the greeze that spoke
why ya got a whole hate in yo muscles?
maybe it’s the b i g d a d d y gold plate on my knuckles
88′ state of mind, grind, mabel my uncle
in my section 8, dog food
hologram rappers i walk thru
flashin’ off the 3-8 fast, i’m livin’ life to the fullest
b-day bash all seasons, smell what i’m cookin’
betta yet, get sum’ to dump in yo face befo’ you start weezin’
might just hit a break leg
i think quick
marker the thinker house, that’s what you call a separate bank account
not a soul can know
soul control is on a whole ‘nother no
n-gg- that’s bolts, a dope fiend’s ovadose
sm-t movie music kinked up goofie you in the glean gut
three dimensionals hoppin’ outta hoopties
(hook)
supreme st-tch from the dynasty, swept out my oracle
flat as the animal within the make-up of mankind
this ain’t yo ordinary manual
this annual gladiator demonstrations
for n-gg-s that can’t rhyme disturb us
bottom of the barrel, you’ve been logged 0% of the song
so no purpose, no tricks
i’m in the mix with the nerves and the service, my man
it’s touring the globe and murdering verses
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