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weirdo collective - red lyrics

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[verse 1: wasif allah]
this that wasif
that allah
that rick flair
that wooh
go
this that “i’m not f-ckin’ round,”
this that “don’t say a f-ckin’ sound,”
this that dead before a cap and gown
trayvon martin hoodie on the ground
two angels two n-ggas down
too many hoes to f-ck around
godd-mn i’m the motherf-cking sh-t
curse cuz i can, you a motherf-ckin’ b-tch
godd-mn fam, why you want some of this?
beef with the whole world except one hindu
i will win, show you what kin do
dad locked up, i prolly will too
fam run according, like will smith do
don’t got a penny, get the n-gga selling nickels
let that dime stimulate your mental, simple
get more lip than a fat b-tch p-ss do
no pistol, still rip you, strip you
devil on my left saying “get this money.”
god on my right saying “get this money.”
gotta clarify so you don’t look at me funny
gotta be about your bread in the land of the honey
you n-ggas stupid
word is moved through me to move sh-t
you dream big but my dreams are lucid
and my f-ckin’ night terrors better than your new sh-t
but you already knew this
yeah god body already know my judas
know god got me more than this crew sh-t

[hook: kash catchem]
n-gga all i see is red, red, red
n-gga all i see is red, red, red

[verse 2: token the ghost]
sick in my motherf-ckin’ head
blood in my motherf-ckin’ bed
baked getting motherf-ckin’ bread
p-ssed, seeing motherf-ckin’ red
k!lling these b-tches, i’m not even sorry
got em all hype like i’m guesting on maury
flirting with fame, while you’re working with lames
and these games gettin’ old like atari
devil in my head saying “get it,”
hate the kids with the two j’s like redd-ck
blue in my blood, dirty money turns to mud
when it’s in your hoes pants cuz she’s strippin’
strayin’ from the topic, down the rabbit hole
spitting more acid than a gastric hole
the devil telling me to grab all the cash and hoes
but my conscience always tryna say press fast forward
choppy like a crack rock
lil’ kid, f-ck your back talk
don’t make me spit vasectomies
and hit you with that sack toss
give me head or i’ll decapitate you
even have your momma hate you
if you’re a scared motherf-cker go to church
and i’ll have a couple bishops rape you
no knowledge in our youth’s minds
no f-ckin’ with my groups grind
2 chains, too blind
blow me like a turbine
your work is slight, that’s why you’re f-cking up
while you’re rolling your dro with that double cup
cop cars and sirens wail
my train of thought has gone off the rails
i hardly rap but you know i rap hard
cuz ball is life and you look like chris bosh
i could see you with my eyes closed
cuz you’re kinda off key like typos
sentenced to death with my sentences
avada kedavra b-tches
chicken’s got pox on my index
better hope i’m resisting the itches
b-tch

[hook]

[verse 3: kash catchem]
you can’t do a verse with me n-gga
that’s social suicide
like joining the mathletes
doing freddy e’s with a bunch of athletes
k!ll yaself, n-gga
give it all back to f-cking god
sip bleach with amanda todd
my magic is evolving, abracadabra
alaka-f-cking-zam
bending spoons, teleporting
breaking out of azkaban
oolong b-tch, i’m porking piggies
going motherf-cking ham
all ya’ll n-ggas seuss as f-ck
eating green eggs with sam
i’m running the game
dylan b-tch, i’m spitting the flame
sorry b-tch i don’t know your name
all you joy’s and jenny’s look the f-cking same
f-cking your b-tch on the balcony
making her -ss clap
got her practicing her alchemy

[hook]



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