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lirik lagu cruisin’ – dexgod

[verse 1: rozz dyliams]
i grew up by them eaton estates
d is the greatest to ever touch a pen to a piece of papyrus
many stop and stare at r o double z and then get caught up dead in they tracks to soak in me and my greatest
if you wanna get to working please do not play with my money or my time follow me to the bank b*tch
i love the way that he produce and how he make the bass hit, bass knock, bass rock nineteen eight six
8*6’d out the game just for serving bad vibes
bad guy with the stainless who nevеr act right
mad guy, always anxious without no alibi
doing evil deeds to get my pockets on a fattеr size
fo*sheezy! i got the need for mo’ cheddar got me going on a mission like dj squeeky
i got a money fetish and an operation setup just for washing dirty green and i ain’t talking ‘bout the lettuce
the doctor said it’s something wrong with me
diagnosed with going too r*t*rded on the world now who gon’ run with me (no one!)
who gon’ mob with me
this is critical town business you can get the business crank it and get buck with me
do what you got to do * snort you up some lines and get throwed off that liquor too that’s what’s on my mind
i hit more than a b*tch or two
godly ain’t my kind
if this sh*t don’t make no sense to you then you ain’t one of mine
[verse 2: dexgod]
codeine, promethazine with the ketamine i think it put a spell on me
had to be some other sh*t up in the mix like a jeffery
get him to the greek b*tch
step if you got beef this tec it got respect up in the streets i believe i’ma keep this name in the game that i claim like some baggage
i’m just spittin’ game to a dame that’s a bad b*tch
i just k!lled the game k!llamane playa made only cabbage in the backwoods (?) bad b*tch
active in the community criminalistic with the impunity
still these snitches doing me ever so (?) til’ i get the opportunity
just to test the gangster let it be known this sh*t get greater later something like ursa major burnin’ player haters at the stake
something like joan of arc r*t*rded hoes get roasted like a steak
young dexgod doc martens stomping on your grave
young dylan ross apologist i’m ballin’ out the frame
buckin’ out the gates dust in my blunt gon’ take me up to outer sp*ce
down to make some motherf*ckin’ ends i don’t need no friends
dex(?) steady setting trends
bending spoons ripping sp*ce time fabric
welcome to the advent gangsta walkin’ stomping with the mac*10
(?) what i’m blastin’ glock tight on my grind buckin’ bustas on sight
trollin’ hoes online
wilin’ like a (?) cocoa yayo like all night
hit the dust once and you wind up doing some hard time

- dexgod

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