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scrape the pot - crimeapple & v don lyrics

[intro]
so for real it says bulletproof?

[verse 1]
devil couldn’t own me, wanna clone me, i still get the trophy (woah)
get the totty, every rapper’s shorty wanna send emojis
bad weathers, barely fed lettuce, let ’em l!ck it slowly
their wish is only get to know me, i be livin’ cozy (woah)
take it on me, b*tches with badges hittin’ on me
ramadan, m. night shyamalan couldn’t twist the story
men fed up, plottin’ on a setup, but i been a goalie (nah, nah, nah)
get beheaded, tearin’ all this bread up like a pigeon saw me (brrt)
red leather, crushed red pepper on the rigatoni
keep your head up, got to see redemption like a prison story
all bank, missed calls ain’t missin’ for me
more k’s, even saw shanks in the inventory
i heard you had steppers but never sent them for me (nah, you didn’t)
opps overheard, that obituary’s obligatory (woah)
in case of bad luck, i ain’t trippin’, homie (toma)
it be a great flood when my people be pourin’ liquor for me (toma)

[chorus]
knicks, dimes, twenties, fifties
quarters, halves, wholes, pizzies (woah)

[verse 2]
spent winters and summers low where it’s hot (yup)
bungalow full of tw*ts, somersaults off the dock (wee)
in to different shades of guap, steak and fish we ate a lot
come home, go around the way and chick*fil*a a thot (what you wanna eat, b*tch?)
scr*pe the pot and loose change can mean a mulsanne
i mine my own mind diamonds while a fiend find a new vein
improvin’ my aim, from half*court, i’m magical (ayy*yay*yay)
in the paint, i might engage with hacksaws, tactical
mathematical and science couldn’t matter more (woah)
albert einstein if the cash involved, that’s for sure (woah, brrt)
jealousy in they eyes, my guys laughin’ more
through the pain, i be out in spain like a matador (sh*t)
newark to hackensack, drop a package off (venga)
the smoker faded after one hit when he lit the macklemore
back when nothin’ was certain, i had a stack for sure
had a knack for customer service, she comin’ back for more (woah)
[outro]
ain’t gon’ lie, yo, my sh*t, my sh*t, my sh*t be gettin’ cold
my sh*t sittin’ over there
but as you see, i got the chicken from the kennedy’s
like i said, bro, i heard that this is one of the like best fried chicken spots
and we know that, but we got bulletproof ’cause—

- crimeapple v don lyrics

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