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lirik lagu fire in the barber chair – shaker the baker

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[verse]
burner on me now, i’m a slip and slider
i ride the places and write about it like tripadvisor
shout my spanish senorita, she my little rider
she never thinks i’m gonna visit so i just surprise her
i think i love my other one but she a little liar
if i could i’d put a tracking microchip inside her
i’m just kidding baby girl, you’ve gotta live your life up
i still think that you’re a snake, you’re just my pretty viper
if you ain’t paying attention then that chick will bite you
you’ll be sleeping, she’ll be creeping like a little spider
we’ve been going back and forth just like a window wiper
i forgive the second that i put my thing inside her
when it comes to being green i’m a local supplier
i ain’t tryna be a memer or social pariah
when i finish spitting fire the ocean will dry up
all the money and the hate and emotional pileup
when they see you trapping, try put a hole in your tyre
they try puncturing your wings when they know that you’re higher
when i’m ready for the road i’m promoting my show
i’ll make edible tickets, you can choke on my flyer
minor, i’ll still trap like a chilean miner
fine to let you in but the city is mine
step in ching and get respect cause i’m really a rider
i done been through everything and i’m still a survivor
if you know me then you know me, you’re a lucky b*st*rd
we done made a million pound, none of that money lasted
told my girl i’m broke and she said “wah di bumbarahtid?”
i had to hit the streets again, that’s when the trouble started
if you know me then you know me, you’re a lucky w*nker
i’m a rider and a family man, i’m not a gangster
i was making cannabis oil to battle cancer
it ain’t all about the paper baker, that’s my mantra
funny, i’m cold*blooded like a salamander
different colours on my scales, it’s a trap bonanza
i’m the king of the verses, you couldn’t match my anger
but i kept a hook up my sleeve like abu hamza
and here it is, fire in the barber chair
i was starving, i was dying but they hardly cared
put me on, now they supply me with the hardest squares
but the streets didn’t provide me with no aftercare
i’m okay with my bae, every day it’s a date
so we toast on the finest of carménére
i couldn’t think of anything to name this one
so we’re calling this the fire in the barber chair

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