lirik lagu thwack friday ***super bars*** – pe$o pete
[producer tag 1: syrenx & koll]
hey, li’l syrenx (li’l syrenx)
[intro: pe$o pete]
big dog, brr!
[producer tag 2: tablez & berleezy]
that’s so cruel, tablez (that’s so cruel, tablez)
[verse 1: pe$o pete]
i’m runnin’ sh*t ’round the globe, might just do it again, sweden, spain, italy, f*ck it, uh, i’m tryna go to j*pan
if he ain’t talkin’ money, i don’t give a d*mn, i [?] ’bout [?], you popped out [?], these [?] crocs, these ain’t no yeezys, the way that i fade him, it’s different, you won’t understand
he facin’ young pe$o, he queasy, i domain expand, ain’t throwin’ no hands, got [?], yo’ b*tch like [?], i’m swaggy, i’m wavy, my lines be grand
my money be movin’ on multiple, your money built like a lunchable, you need a grand, it’s sweet in the center, just hope that the outside is huggablе, [?]
you know it’s different, they stay on my tip likе it’s suckable, he take out my swag’ and said, “pay the deductible”
he think that he cut corners, uncrustable, he think that he f*ckin’ wit’ us, we untouchable, d*mn (uh, yeah)
[verse 2: yayu & toro]
huh? my best worst still way ahead, mind off [?] faded breath, psychonaut, i’m goin’ in
back on earth, you fadin’ in, saw the signs off ‘shrooms, this life [?] can barely pay attention, how i’m ‘posed to—
rappers wit’ no pen still pay to rent, while i just rap to raise a bar like socrates gon’ raise a question, wait
some y’all socrates, ’round y’all, i would not raise a kid, body like a temple, they just ashes in the wind to u.s. interests
if i speak, they k!ll me, i know some these countries’ finstas, i know [?] more b*tches, spendin’ [?] with them elixirs
i done stood on bidness so d*mn long, i’m gettin’ blisters, i might call my white plug, shoot that b*tch like corey kispert, uh
i might call my cousin, take yo’ b*tch like ashton kutcher, take my chain, i might just ride ’round wit’ my gang like billy butcher
the conductor in the cut, might run the train like benny [?], you want yo’ hoe, but [?] took her, she wanna f*ck the gang, i book her
[verse 3: toro & yayu]
i ain’t got time if it ain’t ’bout bands, can’t break no bread wit’ no hoe, these fake*ass rappers, they fake*ass bands, i’m sayin’ this sh*t off the dome
i’m in a jet, i’m smokin’ on ‘dro’, she wanna f*ck me, i love it, you know, you f*ck wit’ my brothers, i’m lettin’ it, you f*ck wit’ my brothers, i’m lettin’ it go
i lied to my mama, i’m still on these drugs, i’m f*ckin’ yo’ b*tch and i’m all in the—, shoot for my gang, you might land in the dust, ain’t bringin’ no toast, so you might get crunched
can’t hit my blunt if you can’t take a punch, my sh*t throwin’ bows, my plug make you overdose, clients comatose
you act opp’, i’m goin’ ghost, [?] my blunt, no way, smoked down, broke his nose, he still tryna be gang, but he don’t know the code
and he don’t know the road, [?] we do this every d*mn day, like, no one know, uh
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