outta here
I'm outta here
earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes
crazy pressure
y'all know what time it is
Waajeed, Dabrye
making his way to the brink, it's evident
a king with the reach to impeach the president
spit stains, just cold, it's just expectorant
wet the wind with it, better switch to sweaters, man
wild wild west and draw the raw medicine for haters and estrogen
brush it up, or connect that chest to chin, it's done
n*gga, if it's waajeed and dabrye, it's guns
the click clack clack and cut you to crumbs
small time with your grind like the function of bums
to some, you couldn't beat this with percussions and drums
this is um, what you would call the coming of the one
so bright, standing in his shadow is standing in the light
love something, it's something when I'm eclipsing the mic
that marks moments for niggas like they wishing in the night
always is to nevers, all praises to efforts
y'all i'm rest up, multibillion dollar business, pull your check up
shit, i got a six digit hustle, Lord bless ya
get your paper, boy, can't afford the pressure
got a four seasons sparkle, monopolize barcodes
dope style, know-how, see that's what I charge 'em for
to toss out young with a cold earth
like twelve bars and a hood so short you would think it goes with the verse I'm fucking with
so you could work through infinity
and your slice of pie'd still be no bigger than two minutes to three
i gotta get it, you are tentatively maybe going
been doing like Leeor Cohen, nigga, dream on, be more open
my pockets is hungry, they gotta eat, dogg, to me, you're joking
you can keep warring, I'll blow y'all over
I could strip this, sharpen my words door to door like Jehovah
rock ate you, my crew of pistols nicknamed Al-Qaeda
the future of visual, y'all style's beta
I'm like kneel to ascendant too, stopping your eyes
swinging you round by your tentacles, counterclockwise
supersize with the poppin' fries
the movement, the music'll have you stupids cocking nines
shit, I'm on top of mine, oh, my, God
It's the pressure, motherfucka
Waajeed and Dabrye
I'm outta here
earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes
crazy pressure
Waajeed, Dabrye
a king with the reach to impeach the president
spit stains, just cold, it's just expectorant
wet the wind with it, better switch to sweaters, man
wild wild west and draw the raw medicine for haters and estrogen
brush it up, or connect that chest to chin, it's done
n*gga, if it's waajeed and dabrye, it's guns
the click clack clack and cut you to crumbs
small time with your grind like the function of bums
to some, you couldn't beat this with percussions and drums
this is um, what you would call the coming of the one
so bright, standing in his shadow is standing in the light
love something, it's something when I'm eclipsing the mic
that marks moments for niggas like they wishing in the night
always is to nevers, all praises to efforts
y'all i'm rest up, multibillion dollar business, pull your check up
shit, i got a six digit hustle, Lord bless ya
get your paper, boy, can't afford the pressure
dope style, know-how, see that's what I charge 'em for
to toss out young with a cold earth
like twelve bars and a hood so short you would think it goes with the verse I'm fucking with
so you could work through infinity
and your slice of pie'd still be no bigger than two minutes to three
i gotta get it, you are tentatively maybe going
been doing like Leeor Cohen, nigga, dream on, be more open
my pockets is hungry, they gotta eat, dogg, to me, you're joking
you can keep warring, I'll blow y'all over
I could strip this, sharpen my words door to door like Jehovah
rock ate you, my crew of pistols nicknamed Al-Qaeda
the future of visual, y'all style's beta
I'm like kneel to ascendant too, stopping your eyes
swinging you round by your tentacles, counterclockwise
supersize with the poppin' fries
the movement, the music'll have you stupids cocking nines
shit, I'm on top of mine, oh, my, God
It's the pressure, motherfucka
Waajeed and Dabrye
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