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lirik lagu under the hood – specifics

here with a dilemma
a dip with an umbrella out my cellar
let her in quick, the medicine scent, whatever.

i’m clever on some accapella sh-t, that’s my main strength
but never been too bad, as well, at this gettin’ brains thing.

i like the lights dim
not the type to fight jim
and bent like psych, to hit the bed and strike skins.

right then the phone ringin’ but left it
blowing in the night like the west wind crescent.

my preference is a heavy snare
yes, instead of some soft sh-t, got a sweaty pair of breath mints.

the stars be glowing
we spark weed, holdin’ hands and a cold beer be the cardio and stamina.

top physical condition when i’m kissin’
switchin’ my footwork, i cook birds, chicken!

she took off my cardigan, she told me start again
i’m gettin’ more bad b-tches than mad martigan!

with no candles, r&b stanzas or glamorous clothes
i rock no-brand sandals.

i’m dealing with fans, you’re dealing with man-holes
it’s romance – and more p-rn than sancho.

i never snuff lights
havin’ rough nights, but i must live up to my rep, right?

touch ice, but my blood warm
snuff any nickname, when he gets semi-drunk, it’s a f-ck-storm!

and some more couldn’t hurt
mix up love and war like p-rn, rum and pepsi one for her skirt, yikes!
but i wanna just get done nicely – and yo, girl, your shirt’s what entice me!

yo, i’ma do it like this! ask if you love it so, if so, it’s on…
and boo, if you love his flow, it’s golden,
yo it’s all good, what you runnin’ under the hood?

i heard it through the grapevine
word’s groupie’s got the eyes on the crew,
incite to get attached loosely at the waistline.

booty makes my day, yo
the b-ssline boogie nights got to groove crazy with them cutie-pies.

seventies sh-t
you bet me, i will never be rich,
i need to get me a celebrity b-tch

check

this kid can’t afford hennessy, but switch many more cheap 40’s than you weak wh-r-s will ever sip.

and rap effortless
blessed with a certain effervescence,
the better beef-curtain spreader specialist.

specifics, yo, don’t get it twist
drove chicks to my coastal getaway ocean precipice.

tryin’ to get to paradise
no asparagus, just a pair of dice, dominos and some sheridans.

solid gold providence
in the hottest nights, get the halls hyped wall to wall with a squad of hos.

and all of this
a life of pantyhose, expansive heights, patios and random fights.

yo my boys got cameos
dance in the rain with phantoms, all happy like we back again!

i could never end it better than the last lp
so take a picture actually, let the image help me.

remember when it fade like a dream
and i p-ss my name, and dash off, yo, to rap with demons.

yo, i’ma do it like this! ask if you love it so, if so it’s on… and boo, if you love his flow, it’s golden, yo it’s all good, what you runnin’ under the hood?

- specifics

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