NO COMMERCIAL LYRICS

Наряд (Prod. by Wex & Lawzy)

SWAG SEASON

ЧИТАЮ О ДРАГАХ

Стейк

4 MONTHS NO SMOKE

Не нужна

[Verse]

Wrist twistin', flick of the pot, got the kitchen hot,

Stove speakin' tongues, soundin' like it’s talkin' plots.

Hustle in my veins, got the clock tick-tockin',

Money in my sights, I’m a sniper steady lockin'.



In the dark, where the shadows creep,

City never sleeps, dreams buried deep.

Pockets need a feast, ain't no fastin' here,

Eyes wide open, smell the cash in fear.



[Chorus]

808s knockin', heartbeat stoppin',

Hi-hats spinnin', the whip ain’t stoppin’.

Trap talk echo through the block, I’m a prophet,

Everything I touch turn to gold in my pocket.



Trap tales written in the smoke I breathe,

Every corner got a ghost that’ll never leave.

Sharp trap symphony, my melody bleeds,

Rap sharper than the blade, this the life I lead.



[Verse 2]

Pyramids of powder, hieroglyphs in the scales,

Keys open doors, and I ain't talkin' bout Yale.

Hustle mathematic, every gram got a tale,

Run the marathon, my competition's frail.



Eyes bloodshot, from the nights I grind,

Numbers on my mind, digits intertwine.

Dark clouds hover, but my shine too divine,

Dirt on my kicks, but my path still aligns.

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ROCKET