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letra de paraphernalia - bigkaybeezy

[intro]
(ayy, who made it? millan made it)

[chorus]
drug paraphernalia under my nails, i make sells, i do drugs
i might send some of these slugs in your mail
chinchilla fur on my new rug, can’t you tell?
i smoke og, cookie by the bud, blood, can’t you smell what i’m-?
sitting here rolling up these dead oppositions
how you couldn’t tell it was a dead mission? tweaking with my lil’ hitter
my shorty said, “gang, i’m ready, just got through bl!cking”, i f-ck around, hit ’em
i said, “go spin that b-tch again, make sure his ass all hit up”
[verse 1]
all on the ‘gram talking about come get up, with him, that’s why that n-gga a lemon, he a vegetable
i just put a few drills on my schedule
when i step out in that field, i get medical
i mean surgical
what’s the word? i got birds in my furniture
baby, don’t hit the curb, no alerting ’em (grrt, baow, baow)
hop out, we burning ’em (baow, baow, baow, baow)

[verse 2]
all in the corner, clutchin’ a .50, make sure a n-gga torso burn, we medical
drop the low, we kick his sh-t in like lil’ folks ‘n them wrestlers
i put my b-tch on a pedestal
i put them bricks and them hits on my schedule
let’s hit a l!ck on that medicine, but you gotta keep that on the hush
i keep a glock with a shh
she said she fell in love with my touch
no stick-shift and the whip still clutch
big backwoods, what the f-ck is a dutch?
i can’t see us together without my binoculars, that ain’t the only thing stoppin’ us
you don’t know how to be patient and popular
lil’ e spin the block, one more gain and we poppin’ ’em
hop in them whip and go mission impossible
you gotta keep that on the hush
straight backwoods, what the f-ck is a dutch?
and the zaza good but ain’t f-cking with us
oh, we f-cking him up
got a whole lotta guns on this mercedes bus, get snuck in the club
is we f-cking or what?
told her i ain’t got time to be caking, she keep tryna b-tter me up
you would think i’m jamaican the way i keep taking these dead n-ggas straight to the face, on what?
i’m getting payed, still ducking the jakes, on what?
i blew brains, i’m the rate for the day, on what?
b-tch (on fonem grave, i don’t bleed that risk, n-ggas talk sh-t, get hit in his hmm, uh, don’t live too comfortably)
[chorus]
drug paraphernalia under my nails, i make sells, i do drugs
i might send some of these slugs in your mail
chinchilla fur on my new rug, can’t you tell?
i smoke og, cookie by the bud, blood, can’t you smell what i’m-?
sitting here rolling up these dead oppositions
how you couldn’t tell it was a dead mission? tweaking with my lil’ hitter
my shorty said, “gang, i’m ready, just got through bl!cking”, i f-ck around, hit ’em
i said, “go spin that b-tch again, make sure his ass all hit up”

- bigkaybeezy

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