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lirik lagu dialect – mir blackwell

[verse 1: mir blackwell]
n*ggas started talking on the gang, this the end of that
shorty mouth crazy outta pocket or she in the sack
momma used to tell me if she hit you, then you hit her back
shorty hit my line, throwing ass, i’mma hit it back
if you don’t hit my line with all cash i ain’t finna rap
pulling out with the condom on, i ain’t getting trapped
dropped a couple racks on a feature just to get it back
when i pull the tech on a n*gga he ain’t getting hacked
that n*gga shouldn’t try the set
shorty said she don’t listen to rap, but love my dialect
tried to show that b*tch i’m really boul, no denying that
how the f*ck that n*gga pressing me where his iron at, gave his two cents, i ain’t buying that
b*tch n*ggas shopping from the window
hit em with the sticks, he fell back, no limbo
my n*ggas in the mix, just blaze, no timbo
my n*ggas hit l!cks, run fades makes widows
like ham sandwich, f*ck the money, i just let the leg talk
chopper kicking back, it blew his leg off
you n*ggas turn integration rooms into ted talks
siri ass n*gga facing time cause the tech talk
i just made a bean off a verse, they can’t tax that
i just tell my young bouls hit me on my cashapp
that sh*t hit the bank, then just point me where the track at
mean produced by biggest song and he ain’t even tag that
but i’ma get em straight
told my n*ggas i’ma get a k before i get a bae
told my n*ggas i’ma get a lake before i get a bae
told my n*ggas i’ma get a, yeah, you get it
shorty standing up, i told her bend it over cause we f*cking now
he was talking, bloodied up his nose, he a f*cking clown
shorty said my d*ck one hundred yards, she was touching down
duragia, b*tch, i’m the king up in this f*cking town, n*gga
[verse 2: jeesh]
don’t come around my circle, bro, you’re quite weird
this chopper come with a built*in deesser like mir
i’ll jug a ps5 out a gamestop, there’s nothing i fear
and i don’t even want a ps5
baby bent it back, i told her: “stand up, we ain’t f*cking yet”
next time i see you don’t try talking on me, run instead
ice is on my right hand, this fire on my f*cking left
i pull up with a (fart) inside your house cause i got no respect, i’m out here with the
out here with the gang, no home on the range, but we running trains
two five to your brain, i’mma box your face
there might be something you was winning, it was not the race
my colleague scamming credit cards and it got him chased
sh*t pemdas, baby, do the p first
this ain’t no fake supreme logo, this blood on my t*shirt
huh, boy, i think we got a squeaker
meet the reaper, p*ssy

[verse 3: yayu]
treat the p*ssy like royalty, we do regicide
i’m depressed, but i don’t cap bout getting coochie, b*tch, i’m dead inside
turn, wet up, gun reverberate for like seconds time
told that b*tch to leave me lone like britney, i just fed her lines
pistol flashing back, now he reminiscing of better times
veteran with the vetted rhymes, viscose verbiage volatile
that was dumb as f*ck no cap, still said it all the while
really bout my mathematics, i’mma problem child
used to put em in perspective, i just cause em now
turnt potential to kinetics, now he falling down
side note: kinda still f*ck silly bands
y’all get snuffed out trying to make a k!lling, d*mn
move the work inside my little engine, b*tch, i really can
shaky blunt rolling, give me a break, i got chilly hands
pass the pack to homie, suit the case, it had him switching plans
transported by the beam, fly em out, get your ticket scanned
fat white shooter got more rounds than the michelin man
poppy at your crib like dad visits that don’t happen, he been abandoned

- mir blackwell

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