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Costa Rica (Nitin Randhawa Remix)
by
Nitin Randhawa
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Lyrics
(Pyrex Whippa) (Pyrex) (Nitin Randhawa) (You are watching a master at work) (Nitin Randhawa) I got big dreams so my watch got a big face (Big dreams) Girls gettin' mixy like a motherf**kin' mixtape (I'm tellin' ya) Smellin' like money and I'm lookin' like sex (Big racks) I'm outside for real with the slimes and the slatts (Slatt) N***a ride wave, then the n***a get taxed (Hey) Fendi snowpants and I fill 'em up with racks They all ball cap, and this all facts (Big facts) No, I don't relax and I don't lack Demons, they follow me deep in the dark N***as got problems with being a boss We ain't been home but we hear all the talkin' Hit 'em with hollows and clean 'em with salt Salt in the wound and my heart in the cooler Frozen like I gave my heart to my jeweler Told him to make a new piece out of this Ever since, I just can't give no f**k 'bout no b*t*h (It's a check) Baby (Yeah), had to bustdown on the AP (AP), yeah Baby (Yeah), ain't no rich styles on you lately (Rich), yeah I got fans in Costa Rica (Fans), I got bands in Costa Rica (Big bands) (Joyner) I got fans in Costa Rica (Big fans) (Awwww sh*t, Joyner), I got bands in Costa Rica All you new rappers don't be talkin' 'bout sh*t except doin' drugs Wonder how you got a name (Damn) Sippin' lean, takin' E, Percocets, Purple drank, Xanax, everything sound the same, f**k Bunch of drug addicts in the house of pain (Woo) Hope you n***as suffer til you pop a vein, yeah This sh*t made your mother wanna ovulate, yeah This sh*t make conductors wanna stop a train Gucci, Fendi, Louis, Prada, Dolce (Dolce) Back when I was broke and no one know me (Woah) I couldn't afford it and now that I got the money I don't even want this sh*t 'cause it ain't for me (Joyner) I always been myself, you don't know me (Woah) Yeah I was so depressed, I was lonely The man on the horse, all I had was Ralph Lauren Then I went and signed a deal and bought a pony (Woah) Yeah I'm taking it back and then I'm smacking you b*t*hes and laughing And I'm killing them, hacking them, and sending your body right back to them You wonder what's happening I'm flipping new syllables, acronyms I guess I'ma practice it You f**kers are f**king embarra**ing (Pow pow) You ain't gonna be happy when I'm on top and I'm gonna be popping All of you gonna be dropping like birds dropping all on your conscious All you n***as are watchin I'm spittin', slap all on your coffin, R.I.P You lost and you f**kas sleepin' you're pillow talkin' (Pow pow pow pow) And you dream all day, that's per year (Per year) All you ho n***as leave your purse here (Purse here) I am your favorite rapper's worst fear (Why?) Raised in the mud crying, dirt tears (Woah) Just a bunch of kids in the high chair Couldn't get a buzz even if you had lightyear Wouldn't get no love even if your heart's right here N***as got guns so nobody want to fight fair, no Hit 'em with the Ric Flair and the suplex I ain't never been scared, b*t*h, I'm ruthless (Woo) Raised by the ghetto Know some gangs that'll get 'em Split 'em right down the middle like a f**kin' duplex Break a n***a toes, make 'em do the two-step Crib full of hoes, now I feel like Hugh Hef Got a bad stripper b*t*h, all we do is have sex And she love suckin' d**k so I call her loose neck (Woah) Makin' a panic with my sh*t and I'm flippin' up banisters I'm ready to handle and dismantle and crush and vanish I hit 'em and send 'em into walls, then I got' em enchanted Then my f**kin hands that holdin the hammer bangin' and slammin' Killin' 'em in the ambulance, they dyin', they bleedin', they tremblin' I'm really sick and I got a stiff as a f**kin' mannequin I paint a picture a Pica**o vision, all on my cellophane I got 'em swingin' they on my d**k and grabbin my pants again Now, uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco (Cinco) I ain't Spanish but I know the lingo (Lingo) Atlantic told me that my flow a hundred But my album ain't come unless I got a f**kin' single Well I don't give a f**k about no hit record I'ma just remix y'all sh*t and get big off it I'ma just murder every mother f**king beat while I'm dreaming of gettin' paid in my mother f**kin' sleep, goddamn Baby (Yeah), had to bustdown on the AP (AP), yeah Baby (Yeah), ain't no rich styles on you lately (Rich), yeah I got fans in Costa Rica (Fans), I got bands in Costa Rica (Big bands) I got fans in Costa Rica (Big fans), I got bands in Costa Rica I got the Mike Jack' nose, just before the vitiligo Norman Bates with the eights, I'ma go psycho Laundromat with a temper, this a vicious cycle Feel like Rihanna, b*t*hes go wherever I go Go against the grain like I'm battlin' the silo I'm going out west like I'm motherf**kin' Fievel LeBron in the finals, motherf**kin' five-oh N***a bettin' under 5'4", hell if I know N***as got me tight like Arthur's fist and sh*t Like I'm not an arsonist and sh*t Not a n***a that you wanna argue with 'Cause then you f**king with your future like Larsa Pippen, sh*t Boy, I'm like a barber with this sh*t You get out the chair, you get in the chair The things in the mirror, the way they appear You look to the rear, my n***as is near, my n***as revered You f**kin' with Mez, you f**kin' with Heirs, n***a (It's a check) Baby (Yeah), had to bustdown on the AP (AP), yeah Baby (Yeah), ain't no rich styles on you lately (Rich), yeah I got fans in Costa Rica (Fans), I got bands in Costa Rica (Big bands) I got fans in Costa Rica (Big fans), I got bands in Costa Rica F**k a album release party, I'm out in the streets, shawty How many rappers I killed—counted at least forty Nah, I ain't God, but shawty down on her knees for me I'm horny like that Coltrane album A Love Supreme, that's Cole fave album Lately, I've been dancing like a Soul Train album lately Silly making songs talkin' 'bout how they hate me They've been loving me this whole time My only adversary was my own mind Killed my ego now I'm snappin' like it's '09 With a gold mine of inspiration for y'all F**k your co-sign, that n***a can't f**k with Cole neither Don't ask for a feature, we bring a whole liter of ether To eat ya, we got heat for n***as, keep reachin' If these bullets was heat-seeking They wouldn't even reach you n***as I'm on my... And we don't stress A .38 'til it free your chest Then PP on the PO's desk I'm Jay-Z in a blow out press Relate me to your blowout's best Can't hate me, I'm remote you're deaf I'm HD, causin' photo theft My AC antifreeze gotta—that part Hold your breath, I'm 8 feet when I hold this TEC Protect me from the local threats My ID say my eye don't rest My IV qualify T-rex Society kept my IQ vexed Denyin' me from an Ivy school Applyin' me to the street I slept I quietly had to hold this tool Reminding me of the block I repped The turf I stepped, the church and the earth I blessed The first I guessed the alert was the murk I chef That hearse the flirt with perks of a kill confessed Dispersed the worst, the first 48 addressed The search of laws and verse of the birth I nest The—uh, the awe, the curse of a pose in zest The good, the flaws, the pain to reverse what's left, uh Baby (Yeah), had to bustdown on the AP (AP), yeah Baby (Yeah), ain't no rich styles on you lately (Rich), yeah I got fans in Costa Rica (Fans), I got bands in Costa Rica (Big bands) I got fans in Costa Rica (Big fans), I got bands in Costa Rica Shout-out to the Bobby Soxer girls that just love the flow Chillin out late night with the weed lit blunt split and the paper rolled RattPack smoking loudpack yeah they 'bout that Haters talking sh*t yeah I never doubt that With the GPS flow we re-route that Road to riches we be 'bout that Getting money like Oprah Fryin' motherf**kers like Okra Put your L up if you be a smoker Full-time toker Everything I got that's what I'm given no division till it's over Sleeping on the Young Sinatra like a sedative Now they on a brother's d**k, so repet**ive And they wonder why, and they wonder why And they wonder why, and they wonder why (You are watching a master at work) I got balled up hundreds in my pocket (Hundreds) Diamonds on me water like a faucet (Yeah, flash) Got a lot of bands in Costa Rica Lot of hoes in Costa Rica (Uh), got a pa**port in my pocket (Yeah) And I flew with the stick, it's a rocket (Uh) Forty-five on me, sh*t hot like a pocket (Doo-doo) You ain't talkin' money, it's nonsense (Yeah) Got your baby mama doing drugs in the moshpit Top of the morning to anybody who thought it was beddy-bye Jiddy, I'm like a Jedi Mind tricks live inside of your head, I Devilish, red eyes, never been on a redeye Or sh*t, I be high, I forget Shawty said I be wildin' and trippin' when I'm on a lick Score a penny or twenty, I'm Dominique Wilkins and sh*t Really I flew to Costa Rica with an AP At the airport, this girl ask me, "Hey, are you Swae Lee?” Wow (It's a check) Baby (Yeah), had to bustdown on the AP (AP), yeah Baby (Yeah), ain't no rich styles on you lately (Rich), yeah I got fans in Costa Rica (Fans), I got bands in Costa Rica (Big bands) I got fans in Costa Rica (Big fans), I got bands in Costa Rica Yeah, I made a couple million off rap like it's nothin' Keep the sh*t quiet, I don't stunt too much She could f**k me, she don't give it up too much Drink liquor like water, gettin' drunk too much, I I was off them drugs too much In the crib f**kin' all these little sl*ts too much How it is when you young, blowin' up too much Talkin' sh*t, but I know that you ain't up to much Man, I been workin', said I'm the greatest Now that I'm certain, Benzo the latest Drunk and I'm swervin', I'm goin' ape-sh*t on all of my verses F**k bein' famous, I'm here to f**k up your favorite Lately I'm hearin' too much of the same sh*t Young and I'm faded, killin' sh*t, bury it under my basement (Shut your mutherf**kin mouth b*t*h) Suffering succotash She think it's all puddycat but, hell, I ain't even mad I started sucking on her t**ty, put my thumb in her a** She had a little one, it really wasn't nothin' to grab, I did it anyway N***a, I'm a bag Comin' down the 91, flyin', doin' the dash We goin' in today (Ayy) And I been writing my a** off, Ernest Hemingway (B*t*h) I ain't got sh*t else to say I got too much skills I flow like the water, so surprised I did not grow gills And I am your father like you was Luke Skywalker And I conquer and let it burn like Usher's perm and kill confirmed You look concerned, respect is earned, uh You really be in it, B, gotta be kiddin' me, uh You really be sickenin', I got the remedy, uh I'm feelin' like Goku, b*t*h, I need your energy, uh Um, okay, huh, goin' on a date with an AK, huh (Yup) Ayy, okay, goin' on a date with an AK, ayy (It's a check) Baby (Yeah), had to bustdown on the AP (AP), yeah Baby (Yeah), ain't no rich styles on you lately (Rich), yeah I got fans in Costa Rica (Fans), I got bands in Costa Rica (Big bands) I got fans in Costa Rica (Big fans), I got bands in Costa Rica
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