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lirik lagu 616 – cult mountain

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[verse 1: trellion]
yo, nautica swimming shorts
conducting a four piece orchestra with an oar
in a storm
went for a swim and accidentally snorkeled to singapore
i heard peace and love’s overrated
so i sacked it off on the basis that i made it
love the way i mumble when i say sh-t
f-ck being humble, i’m amazing
i wear my gucci goggles like a bracelet
too many chains yo
plus i can’t skewiff the halo
see, what do they know?
i’m on fire like waco
f-ck it, i’m taking trellphies with a pill face
i’m rare like dr. pepper milkshake
and i know what you will say
i’mma rewrite what your will says
where you at son?
i’m up there like jimmy lavelle
half blind but my aim like william tell
clinch the game with a late winner
i’m just here to save the day like ace rimmer
i’m on the road to greatness
but i’m about as motivated as a coma patient
getting money, i’m about that
i even got the p. diddy mouse mat

[hook]
6, 1, 6, cult mountain all up in your—b-tch
6, 1, 6, cult mountain all up in your—b-tch

[verse 2: milkavelli]
i’m smoking buda in the uber
my grill moonlit, i’m trill lunar
voices in my head saying ‘k!ll super’
while i’m singing to my six-shooter (la-di-da, la-di-do)
no, i don’t live in the states
but i’ll dump your body down by the michigan lake
and nah, i ain’t feeling your wave
i ain’t digging it for sh-t
if you give me a spade then i can dig you a grave
son of sam at the summerjam
with a couple grand in a rubber band
try’na make it rain but it’s sunny and
i think i’m in tellytubby land, so f-ck it
i’m still the grooviest chauvinist from the soviets
smoking that potent odorous
zoning like it’s an opiate
get high, yeah you know that i’m smoking it right?
all of this polo is white
i’m glowing like sodium lights
taking selfies with my d-ck out
on the toilet try’na get the sh-t out
i mean my music
all my ralphie five finger discount
your girl rides my d-ck then she dismounts (and beat me to it)
i get my greasy spoon on
tell a b-tch to leave my futon, she’s sleeping too long
the b-tch needs to move on
diss my b-tch and get a new one cuz she cooked my food wrong, uh

[hook]
6, 1, 6, cult mountain all up in your—b-tch
6, 1, 6, cult mountain all up in your—b-tch

[verse 3: lee scott]
i burn a tree and give your bird a third degree
i don’t worship the devil, the devil worships me
i’m a trained croc k!ller that could tame godzilla
puffing a high grade lung filler with a gallon of rum
i’m macking your mum, it’s getting hot
so i hop to ‘n spat at the sun
like b-tch, feed me ’til i’m fatter than pun
i’m arrogant plus stupid with a capital dumb
i’m ruud like van nistelrooy
headphones in the opera house listening to t-ty boi
there’s an infinite void where me brain was
i’m too busy offending ya’s to say soz
coming through with a crew of b-ttoned hoodlums
i don’t even shed a tear when i’m cutting onions
i don’t know what you expected b-tch, at best i’m ignant
it is what it is unless it isn’t
he’yare, have a stripe for your plight
i haggle like several camel lights for your wife
i’ve seen the cool as ice movie twice
i’m stupid nice
giving up and coming crews advice
like f-ck a job, peddle drugs and rob
don’t trust me like a muzzled dog
have you consulted god to stand on this mountain, laa?
like mama-say, mama-sa, man i macked your ma

[outro]
mama-say, mama-sa, man i macked your ma
mama-say, mama-sa, man i macked your ma
mama-say, mama-sa, man i macked your ma

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