lirik lagu cfymib – kulprit d
[verse one: mac miller]
last name stoner, first name i’mma
ain’t n0body higher, sippin’ on some aunt jemima
champagne, campaign, bubbly for the hoes
so, fill up ya gl-ss everybody make a toast
it’s a new day, fresh start like it’s toothpaste
take ya’ head off you a toupee, i’m servin’ bars like a soufflé
rappers like to hate cause i’m chillin’ and i’m gettin’ all my tunes played
i do me though, kick a ronaldinho
mean flow, where jeans low, see my cheeks, ho
long journey to the top of a ski slope
i keep away from all these haters and these mean hoes
she rock a pea coat to cover up them cheap clothes
never knew that they would bite her in the -ss
late start, and i need to catch a flight so where the cab?
if i miss my plane benji gonna come and kick my -ss
[verse two: kulprit d]
animalistic though whole ‘nother breed.
they try to clone me but i’m a whole ‘nother seed
whoa, behold it’s kulprit, we were told that od’d
lookin’ at them acting like they know. hoes. oh, please
back with facts, i’m painting “agd”s.
it’s attack of the mac, kd and earl sweaz.
just kissed a girl goodnight. might write about a homicide
tomorrow, k!ll a b-tch. then write how she makes me feel inside
who he rep? what’s he fear? what’s the name of that b-tch he’s missin’?
you’d have all those answers had you just shutup and listened
my att-tude is fine don’t blame it on what i’m sippin’
i hope you got bags packed for how much ya’ll are trippin
but i tug of war with what i want and what i know is good for me
point a cracker out when that cute brunette looks for me
sleep with her. marry music. music’s been to good to me
i’ll just go out and do it and not wonder “hmm could it be?”
kulprit’s back with rhymes times 2. my gosh he spits em
honestly, hostilely, with just a hint of optimism
lots of venom when he graces the booth
you can either listen to him or just not see the truth
[verse three: earl]
tell your b-tch to stop complainin’ ’bout her achey t-ts
her body is a temple, i don’t give a f–k, i’m atheist
make me stop, make me b-tch, she mad because i taped the s–t
and sent the tape to ace and taco, helps ’em f—-n’ ‘bate to it
master, master, pretty b-tch basher, black and white b-tch
mixed like she moo and chew gr-ss or somethin’
sorta like the sh-t, i guess i kinda like my b-tch
if she wasn’t a dyk- motorcyclist with tyson lisp
wolf gang on that drive without a license s–t
on that take shake and meka necks and f—-n’ slice them sh-ts
oh how nice, now you wanna say you like the s–t
because you bruised up, your neck sliced, and i ain’t icin’ s–t
show me a rapper my age that say he nice as this
and i’ll show you a f-ggot that says he hate barbara streisand fl!cks
huh, me and berman swervin’ in the jeep
i’m a nice guy in person, but a pervert in the sheets
and i’m magic with the words, murder merlin over beats
make the compet-tion kiss the f—-n’ curb and then they weep
and then they drop, ha-ha
drop, b-tch, drop, drop, drop (drop, b-tch)
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