Sharks – Cadence Weapon – letras

Old school, new schoolNeed to know thisGetcha game up you better keep focusAnd so i said that they were bitersChalking up lines from all these resolutesChip off the writers block with 9’s that chop against the destituteEvolution of the manor, trade royalites with versesGo with platinum, can’t go with burberry…it hurts sinceA verse gets termed as the worst, but when immersed in your playlistThat shit plays first re…hearse all barsMatter harsh scars and battleI bring tallstalls with chatter yet they all just shatter and splitBattered by the scaron gifts, stolen from affiliates, sharon patter and redshitShoulda stitched it by hand and mouth, now you shook planning doubtsSpitting west while standing south, all n all, sucess for you is not at all probableWhen i take you to the lake to find out if your water-solubleI’m sick of bitches typing like their spliting inches off a rulerTo be judged by, file pressing consider my style, metric.That means stop biting my shit!That means start writing your shit!No rest for the weary, or the wicked stand witnessTo know rest for the weapon, i’m a skeet with tradition, now listen!This isn’t just another sick written from the darkstar harm how the sharks that get bittenThis is hardtaught! don’t expect a rescue and don’t let me catch you alone in the carparkCause shark skin is fashion and that is meTouch your anatomy like down to your car heartsUse to write for a site but i didn’t spark smarterRitebright! you could think it, my first pink slipBut this isn’t a house by writing bumper stickersIt’s somethin you stick it and bump, like a heroin needleSee the shit in the trunk is apparently lethalWhich y’all live to distrupt like american leadersI’m gonna pull quick from the categoryI run bullshit like a matador, see?That means stop biting my shit!That means start writing your shit!I’m the rapier, but you fear that the spear that sparred our father harbours pokesRich rappers might catch a darva conger in…hoax!That the bitch they get with doesn’t switch, approach!To the sickness, leave you witless buying her ropes nRings n things of that nature, shit all you hear is « rings this », »pitchpacks », « pagers »To get that paper, she’ll find a mattels a cellStyle for fidel’cs as hell, looks like a dictatorType a chick that a getcha car stolenHardtoil! she might get up in that ass like shark oildenAgain i can see what you thought was a fargoBut you can’t trust those with hearts like charcoalI didn’t prepare to punk, from when i put em in the boatIt was a lebaron trunkI connect for the very best sound and setNow i’m rockin a tooth right around my neckThat means stop biting my shit!That means start writing your shit, kid!