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lirik lagu 1abve sessions | nan fiero – esem

[verse: nán fiero]
remove the carhartt fleece, only to reveal the carhartt tee
they be taking me for my chips like a card*shark scheme
that’s a easy fix like the car part’s cheap
a gifted artist like how interviews with nardwuar be
what? too many likes in the verse, random
if she my wife then she might get a purse, and some
since i was just a lil’ tyke in the church i used to always think my life was the worst
and i was right but i’m finna put that drive in reverse
sh*t i might hit the curb
or i might hit a curveball i might get to third
then steal home even if i have to slide in the dirt
if ya’ like what ya’ heard i could write you a verse for the right integers
the price is absurd ‘cause i’m priceless for sure
i want the whole pie f*ck a slice for dessert
i’m nice that’s my word, yo
i turn a pair of new balance into no balance
same color as my snow jacket, but i don’t match ‘em
the young cro*magnon man i’m so handsome
loverboy, me and these beats be romancing
under 80bpm we slow*dancing
riding these wavs i’m in a boat smashing wit’ no co*captain slapping bo jackson
i make ‘em follow every word it’s close*captioned
folks mad they flow lacking and terrible too, they throw tantrums
no capping when i write it’s all lowercase
if i don’t feel welcome i’ma overstay
i’m fully gassing on a quarter tank, the whip be looking spiffy in a slower lane
copped the car wash then started pouring rain
trunk storage sp*ce where i h**rd the paint, fornicate
when i bust it out spray up them walls, see how that correlate?
it’s sorta late i‘m texting shorty wit’ a gorgeous face
she love to show her cakes knowing i’m overweight, oh behave
i’m homer jay at the bar with moe szyslak
wasted like that valuable time i won’t get back
i should be at home in the zone wit’ a cold six*pack
instead of always tryna go pitch*black
out the way while my folks chitchat, then wonder why i don’t hit ‘em up
like old diss tracks, that raw from out the jaw who don’t spit crack?
a breath of fresh air with no tic*tacs
say what the f*ck i want don’t hold sh*t back
and i won’t kick back, unless i’m hanging out with the pris
them cold winter nights the block remain a thousand degrees
but it’s nothing like two thousand and three
i was 11 home alone i‘d feel like kevin if my house wasn’t cheap
i’m watching freddy vs. jason thinking childish things
like imaging freddy krueger tryna prowl in my dreams
i doubt he’d succeed, them gunshots would always wake me out of my sleep
before i knew of krs i knew the sound of police
i’m just sliding on this alchemist beat
hoping he send a pack and i don’t mean a pound of some weed
no shame, all propane and no brakes
from your favorite no*name, nán fiero baby
let’s go

- esem

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