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Can't be late for the show You should know, for sure Gotta get the dough Tell your friend to go Oh, you should know Everything we make is cold (Uh) Can't be late for the show (Uh) No Use the fentanyl, cut the blow Yo, death-defyin' acts Throw a line at you like a flying axe Those some fire raps It's no wonder why I'm detached Numbers-wise, the budget was high like we paddin' stats (The one who cooked) With Al makin' magic Jack, we some lab rats The rap pack, true that, cool cat But I will come boom your ass off the map (Woo) Who but you could pull your ass up out the grass by the bootstraps But still look new off the rack? Don't let these folks gas you, they casuals (Casuals) You nicer than Marci? That shit laughable (Ha-ha-ha) Two racks for the tracksuit Exotic like dragonfruit, draggin' you (Draggin' you) Like a mink when it hit the back of the shoe (Uh) Your jacket's as sharp as a jackal's tooth (Uh) Letras de cancionesI'm like a wild animal on the loose (Woo) I'm a wolf, I'm aloof ('Loof) I'm not cool, despite what you might have assumed I'm rude (I'm rude, boy) Uh, Rolls-Royce sped off At this point, I'm beatin' a dead horse The whore's weave fell off (Mm) Your head falls on the floor like spaghetti sauce (Woo) Shells hit your core like a wreckin' ball Everything on the walls and the dressin' floor Your whole floor dissolved to a big quart of Epsom salt This is all just for sport, I was meant to ball Check the score Can't be late for the show (That shit we on, nigga) You should know, for sure (You see it, nigga, check the score) Gotta get the dough (Yeah) Tell your friend to go (Yeah) Oh, you should know Everything we make is cold Can't be late for the show No Use the fentanyl, cut the blow Paid for decent clothes Man, they say you reap what you sow The locs a few G's, but to each his own The hatin' be stinkin' like cheap cologne It reeks broke Seepin' in your coat like reefer smoke Folks scream, "He the GOAT, he cold" But I don't need my ego stroked People, this ain't no kinky peep show Even though this is the most freaky flow (Nasty) But I ain't freaky, yo (Not at all, woo) Fake tastemakers tasteless (Ptuh) That shit you praisin' ain't this (That ain't this) Your favorite the flavorless (Uh) I'm on the most-hated list (Uh) Your lady friend got my name on her lips Cocaine sniff, soft as an angel's kiss Entanglements like Jada Pinkett Smith (Uh) The rich Cartier bangler wrist This the fatal hit Yayo missed, gave her the nasal drip Scraped it off the dish Real shit Marci 100 block Alchemist Pimpstead Pimpire Killers for hire From Letras Mania