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lirik lagu idiot world – passport rav

[intro]
man, f*ck that sh*t
uh (what it sound like?)

[verse 1]
man, i’m p*ssed off
i seen a n*gga wear a mask in his car by himself
on the way to f*ck a random chick raw
got the hands of chris paul; swivel through, belittle who?
a little too late to show that love, my words bewilder crews
got booed off stage once and vowed to never spit no sh*t wack
have you in your feelings, my love songs feel like a diss track
most these rappers should be mechanics that fix flats
i spit that sh*t that make a copper go get his dispatch
ess*x county make you tough as nails, n*gga, dark as night
bark and bite, copycats might as well have your father’s rights
rap n*ggas funny as chappelle’s show characters
i been nice since the first cellphone camera
lately i been movin’ like, strictly, “where the cabbage at?”
a cold*hearted capricorn, frigid in my habitat
toxic as them chemtrails, bonnet*tossin’, chronic d*ck*providin’
check that sent mail, profit margin been scaled
she said i was too old to rap? well sh*t, i figured best
it took me ’til my thirties to see my first five*figure check
cries from the bench, lies in attempt, [?] exempt
stuntin’ now, but you despise when it’s rent time
huh, word to them nappy*headed buddha statues
they been lyin’ to you ’bout your story since the book of matthew
well, none of my beeswax, you’ll [?] rav
i’ll k!ll you on your own track, then ask you for your fee back, huh
(passport)
[chorus]
let this be the illest sh*t you ever quote
’cause every time he write it’s like the devil’s sittin’ on his shoulder
what’s colder? these lines, or the antarctic?
and every time he spark sh*t, they try to charge with arson, huh
yeah, this be the illest sh*t you ever quote
’cause every time he write it’s like the devil’s sittin’ on his shoulders
what’s colder? these lines, or the antarctic?
and every time i spark sh*t, they try to charge with arson

[verse 2]
so i say: f*ck the cosign, why even be bothered
when these blogs post rappers that used to be bloggers?
sh*t is rigged, like the 45th presidential election
anybody with the right amount of money would get elected
what’s depressin’ like? get that guacamole, dumb with green
and i’m smokin’ on that loud that have me loopy, drum machine
and truly, you’s a f*ckin’ dweeb, barely leave the crib
all scary in your whip and got somethin’ to say
my d*ck good, get her block chopped and my taxes filed
her dirty n*gga prob’ly be hotboxin’ with black & milds
and mock cops as we mash out in the parking lot
and drop pot off with multiple streams and thirty jobs, bro
they was lookin’ funny when they next to me; i forgot
i smell like a whole dispensary, so offensively
i love a black woman, you be cuffin’ karens, dude
my s*x good, and i cook better than her parents do
how can you blame her?
i’ll prob’ly be the same and never change up
real n*ggas need to stay and we should all be votin’ lames out
’cause last year, you was dancin’, tryna sell a record
and now you rappin’ like the best*dressed griselda impression
it’s reckless
[chorus]
let this be the illest sh*t you ever quote
’cause every time he write it’s like the devil’s sittin’ on his shoulder
what’s colder? these lines, or the antarctic?
and every time he spark sh*t, they try to charge with arson, huh
yeah, this be the illest sh*t you ever quote
’cause every time he write it’s like the devil’s sittin’ on his shoulders
what’s colder? these lines, or the antarctic?
and every time i spark sh*t, they try to charge with arson

- passport rav

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