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lirik lagu reduct – cult mountain

[intro: milkavelli]
suck my f-ckin’ d-ck b-tch

[verse 1: milkavelli]
leaky-leaks that’s my twin brother
like f-ck a whip, i got the b-tch with the big bumper (skrr)
she got the fatty like the whip’s hummer
she got the fatty, but i still let her friend suck my d-ck while i t-t f-ck her
i’m like a skinny, white big poppa
bob london, i’ve been a pill popper
sk-m with a “k”, that’s for life lee
have you ever f-ckin’ p-ssed on a b-tch cause you love her?
yeah, i tick that box (tick tick)
you don’t have a clue the freaky sh-t i did as a younger
i keep my hoodie up in the middle of summer
i got scripts on deck, i’ve been trickin’ the doctor
on a five drug minimum, feelin’ like i’m winnin’ an oscar
but really i’m just trippin’ with oscar

[hook: milkavelli]
huh… i’ll give a b-tch d-ck but won’t give her my number
i said i’ll give your b-tch d-ck but won’t give her my number
so you better know that 616 is the number, motherf-cker (sweg)

[verse 2: milkavelli]
sh-t, my neck’s feelin’ cold ain’t it winter or nothin’
it’s that 456 in the mix
i’ve played ce-lo for big figures with big figures in topra
shouts to miss proper, i’m missing you proper
this long distance sh-t’s got me livin’ improper
i’m in the mansion with the mob
but, we don’t listen to opera
i went to arizona just to visit my little brother
he on his pretty flacko sh-t grippin’ the chopper
my red h-lly hansen put the heli in copter
russian blood put me on a drip and it’s vodka
got sucker punched like a b-tch by a boxer
then rock me, pull the blade out, watched him sprint like an olympian runner

[hook: milkavelli]
huh… i’ll give a b-tch d-ck but won’t give her my number
i said i’ll give your b-tch d-ck but won’t give her my number
so you better know that 616 is my number, mother–

[interlude]

[verse 3: lee scott]
hip-hop died of boredom, this is a time of mourning
rappers copy off me like i’m yawning
f-ck a pacifist, b-tch, i’m tryna keep the beef alive like an animal rights activist
i make it sound easy, cause it is
f-ck the biz, sniffing bath salts cut with whizz
and f-ck you for what it’s worth
i’m the motherf-ckin’ man, like papa smurf
this is heartfelt, philosophical, conscious rap
i put schrodinger in a box, and adopt his cat
blah jar on me cap but i don’t tip it though
gigolo, and just because it rhymes with b-tch and hoe
i leave your wife howlin’
let me text ph level sweg 9000, abandon ship
my moral comp-ss is on some bermuda triangle sh-t
lookin’ at a wide angle picture of my mind as i trip
through sp-ce and time, why you stayin’ live?
my spirit animal is a high horse
when i interrupt ya, that’s the intervention of a divine force
the team’s rare like clean air
on cult mountain skiing in beach wear with bleached hair
ralph on my bed and i’m sweggin’
droppin’ knowledge like miss teen usa 2007

[hook: lee scott]
huh… i’ll give a b-tch d-ck but won’t give her the number
i said i’ll give your b-tch d-ck but won’t give her the number
she best believe 616 is the number, motherf-cker

[verse 4: trellion]
yo, rain thunder
i bring the storm ???
i hate the summer cause of wayne wonder
me and satan go the same number (bring it b-tch!)
last night i smoked crack and became younger
that was one for the books
i’d like to read between the lines but i ain’t one for the books
dressed in all white, we’re at one with the doves
now everybody wants to be us (616 dvl gang cult sweg mafia)
i’mma keep it 3 hunna, like 300 (bang bang)
you dumb we dumber, that’s just the way it is
i put the “k” in “swiss”
catch me f-ckin’ amber rose on an eighth of whizz
sh-t, i think i must be dreamin’
keep it stum like buster keaton
dvl gang, middle finger to the god squad (f-ck ’em!)
goldeneye multiplayer i was oddjob (me too, me three)

- cult mountain

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