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lirik lagu giraffe pussy – apollo brown & ras kass

[intro: ras k-ss]
ah. lions and lakers. i am ras k-ss representing c-arson california with my n-gga bishop lamont. and representing the d, apollo brown and nickel. royce da 5’9″!

[verse 1: royce da 5’9″]
i could swim the english channel with all these arms i got
fully automatic karma tryna disarm my plot
i’m honorin’ invites to fight, just wait there
i’m givin’ out beats like the dre pair
i’m comin’ with straps like a straight jacket
nah i ain’t puttin’ nothin’ on worldstar
i’m creepin’ on yah, keep it under your hat like sway hair
nickel, razzy and crook’ll spark
the thought that’ll triple author the book of sharks
i told my phantom driver
i said “phantom driver, take me to the opera
waited ’til we got there, then i shot him
just so we could look the part
my b-tch just sit in my bed and wait for me
even though all the threads’ snazzy, she never wear ‘em
your b-tch a chickenhead, mines is inconspicuous
even on twitter, i crack her head if she don’t use an egg avi
i’ve been possessed since the nature of the threat drop
jordan shoe of recordin’, you a wh0r- to your label, your label a sweatshop

[hook: xzibit]
i feel so inspired, never kneel to a false messiah
gettin’ higher than giraffe p-ssy
push me, i’m no liar, flatten you n-ggas like 4 flat tires
gettin’ higher than giraffe p-ssy
gettin’ higher than giraffe p-ssy
gettin’ higher than giraffe p-ssy
gettin’ higher than giraffe p-ssy

[verse 2: ras k-ss]
i’m higher than your ascendin’ messiah
on the original easter, supernatural creature
i’m tryna worldstar every mothaf-ckin’ feature
kick you while you’re down in the face, sharkeisha
n-ggas is lame, playin’ a knockout game
i hope all your mothers get the same, real talk
this is hip hop on bath salts
i be in the streets like lanes, litter and asphalt
why am i such an -ssh0l-? probably my dad’s fault
it’s an austin thing, n-gga
little rock, big cop
time is money; the guap is tick-tock
landed a ‘copter in the jungles, me and rick rock
hopped out and showed the bloods respect
’cause i love the west, plus i got love for hex murda
that means i love the d, what up though?
my cal d’in b-tch gun tote, nickel plated snub nose
so run home
i be seein’ rappers out standin’ in the front row
secondhand blunt smoke
for my n-ggas in the pen playin’ tunk though
bring ’em 85 off that 36 months though

[verse 3: bishop lamont]
i can show you how real style gets spit
lava, underwater
volcanic my standard, i incinerate your blah blah
you too green, new to this thing
you soft n-ggas sweet like guava
i like my b-tches kinky, swallow nut like german lager
speakin’ of german, i go off like v2’s
my word play is d-day if i choose
i’m unenthused with you phony dudes and your crews
you ali g in borat
talk sh-t, i’m on your front porch like a doormat
what you say?
i’m socal, carson city my locale
i’ve been at this since n-ggas used to go see cal
yeah, you ride my d-ck, too many on it like a slave ship
my penmanship’s a scorpion’s tail tip, poison
deadly, i put lead in yah, more guts the merrier
i’m gonna git you sucka [?] like hayes but never slippin’
slip the clip in, it’s a wrap, get mummified
play egyptian, mumm-ra, cartoon, your description
make you poof like harry who? i’m no magician
listen, phony formats, don’t f-ck with none of that

- apollo brown ras kass

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