t h r o n e (duo) - byzantine lyrics
[intro: vegeta]
you kids run along home to your milk and cookies if you want
just stay out of my way!
[verse 1: hayatheus, yvhikv & hayatheus]
if you runnin’ my business, you layin’ on my sh+t
don’t play with no kids, should i stay with the kitchen?
you talkin’ bout whips, i’m talkin’ bout records
not runnin’ for second, i’m gunnin’ for president
i walk with a stick, throw shots at the b+tch, your team enterprise, exactly that’s why, your face when i win it
retire, you steal it from kids
be fried, man, you was on means
keep providin’ the media, b+tches in hennessy, promotin’ the fantasy, you got a writin’ team and a nutritionist
y’all just be bittin’ and beatin’ the sound of death
no show of initiative, y’all never writin’ for real
always on some kinda deal, some brand than a veil, primitive appеal, my sh+t is art and it fails ya
my sh+t is art and it fails ya
[verse 2: hayatheus, yvhikv & hayatheus]
my bro, they stay rockin’ their consciousness
thеse are not beasts, this is music, it’s obvious
we sample the sk!ll and chop with intention
give thanks to soul and jazz that the engine
i stay on patrol for the unknown with smoke
spread the fire and see how it grows
band aside some queens and some kings
don’t let surprise with the beans and the rice
bring the kinda heat that you do not like,
we bring the books and the excavations
we don’t f+ck with hooks on press relations
you been on the cut with some dopamine
meet me in the nook with a byzantine
i don’t give a f+ck, maybe gasoline
war in the truck, that’s the olive green
finna go wild with some wolverines
i used to rock like a libertine
man, i always thought like a cash machine
now we trade that cocoa for the bean
i trade that wolf like for a team
i need the dope like i need me
i need something heavy to eat
they just were not ready for me
i’m under the underground submarine
run the f+ck up, man, what the f+ck you mean?
ay, ay, ay
[verse 3: chaos1.0]
my grandma a shooter, she gave me a pistol
she told me to huddle up, make us a distol
you n+++++ ain’t sh+t, call it no competition
but lately i know i been fightin’ a big one
i feel like it’s more tryna stack up a finger
but i know i’ll get it if i got my sh+t up
i really don’t swim, i be fightin’ and kick him
cause n+++++ be drownin’ some things while i ship out
you n+++++ a phallus, so we need to be rappin’
i’m watchin’ my balance go up like a falcon
don’t put me in the middle of sh+t like i’m malcolm
cause i’ll put lois on you boys and that’s classic
so if you don’t wanna see me with the action
don’t push all my b+ttons, or i’ll get them out
and my palms gonna itch, you might get some attackin’
so i can lebron all you n+++++, i’m slappin’, i see all you n+++++
and how you be cappin’ and tryna be hard when you sip on the juice
i know a couple of brothers who die in their thirst
and the only thing they l!ck is you
you better go and ask about me before we get ready
i’ll f+ck up and lay you in tombs
might got a l!ck on my body with blood on my neck
but f+ck it, i’m fightin’ for truth
i don’t be dishin’ on n+++++
but i know the ones who be cappin’ when they hit the booth
claiming you made you a banger, that sh+t from the blood
but the way you went hard was a fluke
now when you hop on the beat, i won’t hold you, my n++++
no lie, that make me wanna puke
might not get that many plays in the south
but at least i don’t get them by lyin’ through tooths, n++++
[outro: hayatheus]
this that k.o. throne sh+t
and it’s all love to bro, b+tch
this sh+t is f+ckin’ soft cl!ck
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