CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Flash Gordon
[Production by The Alchemist]
Used to have to pitch
Now I print cash with the BiC
The pad is a blank check
Embrace death, taste flesh
While the rhyme on the page is still wet
Far from fictitious
The cars attract the bitches
I hear the whispers
My palms got the blisters
By the 4-5, you're moisturized
The oysters are fried
Pull fives out the toy box
Be as lonely at the top
The watchband is croc
The palace is a Camelot
Don't ride the camel when it's hot
They channeling Pac
My chairmen scramble and rock
While I dance to the Spanish guitar
Spit the chorus
To stimulate the whore's clitoris
It taste like porridge
I felt rewarded, from the man
I ran from the warrant
The high-top Ewings is blue and orange
Flash Gordon
We still getting it
Piping dimes on the terrace
I'm thinking about my life where it's headin
I sleep with heat under the pillow
The cash is where I left it, it's nothing
I watch the city while I'm f*cking
I'm such a glutton
Gucci bucket with the Chukkas
Motherf*ckers
As a dove flew out the glove of the magician
It was just as I predicted
Reality is prescripted
Trees twisted, autistic
Gorgeous hitmen escort the vixen
Porsches, imported liquids
To buy a snake and acquired taste, we play for higher stakes
Wine and dine by the fireplace
Romantic, strawberries on the coke
My chariot approach
I vanished, parlaying with the players
Switch layers, Mr. Rogers, galoshes
Foxes to dance topless
I hit the spot that's erogenous, erotic
Brolic hips, hippopotamus, chocolate bitch
The clock is a Swiss, the chronic is lit
Gin and tonic, the mix, the Benz is a 6
Inside the Matrix, I'm the glitch
.357 with the rubber grip
So when the beef pop, the shit don't slip
We still getting it
Piping dimes on the terrace
I'm thinking about my life where it's headin
I sleep with heat under the pillow
The cash is where I left it, it's nothing
I watch the city while I'm f*cking
I'm such a glutton
Gucci bucket with the Chukkas
Motherf*ckers
Used to have to pitch
Now I print cash with the BiC
The pad is a blank check
Embrace death, taste flesh
While the rhyme on the page is still wet
Far from fictitious
The cars attract the bitches
I hear the whispers
My palms got the blisters
By the 4-5, you're moisturized
The oysters are fried
Pull fives out the toy box
Be as lonely at the top
The watchband is croc
The palace is a Camelot
Don't ride the camel when it's hot
They channeling Pac
My chairmen scramble and rock
While I dance to the Spanish guitar
Spit the chorus
To stimulate the whore's clitoris
It taste like porridge
I felt rewarded, from the man
I ran from the warrant
The high-top Ewings is blue and orange
Flash Gordon
We still getting it
Piping dimes on the terrace
I'm thinking about my life where it's headin
I sleep with heat under the pillow
The cash is where I left it, it's nothing
I watch the city while I'm f*cking
I'm such a glutton
Gucci bucket with the Chukkas
Motherf*ckers
As a dove flew out the glove of the magician
It was just as I predicted
Reality is prescripted
Trees twisted, autistic
Gorgeous hitmen escort the vixen
Porsches, imported liquids
To buy a snake and acquired taste, we play for higher stakes
Wine and dine by the fireplace
Romantic, strawberries on the coke
My chariot approach
I vanished, parlaying with the players
Switch layers, Mr. Rogers, galoshes
Foxes to dance topless
I hit the spot that's erogenous, erotic
Brolic hips, hippopotamus, chocolate bitch
The clock is a Swiss, the chronic is lit
Gin and tonic, the mix, the Benz is a 6
Inside the Matrix, I'm the glitch
.357 with the rubber grip
So when the beef pop, the shit don't slip
We still getting it
Piping dimes on the terrace
I'm thinking about my life where it's headin
I sleep with heat under the pillow
The cash is where I left it, it's nothing
I watch the city while I'm f*cking
I'm such a glutton
Gucci bucket with the Chukkas
Motherf*ckers
