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letra de lite werk - cakes da killa & proper villains

[intro]
lite werk
lite werk

[verse 1]
uh, don’t sweat the technique
point me to a g, get chicer than me
they don’t got the drive like the rental on e
and i’m far from a rook, these hoes can’t check me
out the asylum, proper villains on the beat
somewhere gettin’ lite imported soles on the feet
catch me on the scene, if you see me, don’t speak
feelin’ crazy, s-xy, cool when i’m stuntin’ on the creep
sip sauvignon blanc in a little black thong
tryna copy my sound, now you know you dead wrong
oh no, cheech and chong, take your lips off my bong
wanna blow me like a whistle, tryna bang me like a gong
that just means ya can’t f-ck with me
so who keep gassin’ you up to come beef?
little indians better bow down to the chief
oh, you ain’t know i ain’t slapped a b-tch in two weeks?
peep the track record and my legacy
got everybody feigned off the recipes
now they doin’ anything just to touch the queen
ever since i did that little show with cardi b
[chorus]
hot gyal, hot gyal all on the beat
got frequent flyer miles from the west to the east
i been tryna keep it cool, keep the come up pc
oh, you ain’t know my whole team beat b-tches outta geish?
hot gyal, hot gyal all on the beat
hot gyal, hot gyal all on the beat (lite werk)
hot gyal, hot gyal all on the beat
got frequent flyer miles from the west to the east (lite werk)
hot gyal, hot gyal all on the beat
hot gyal, hot gyal all on the beat (lite werk)
hot gyal, hot gyal all on the beat
you ain’t know my whole team beat b-tches outta geish?

[verse 2]
yo, rappers not ready, rapid flow come steady
tongue sharp like machete, turn a opp into confetti
get straight to the middle if you tryna solve the riddle
see, i birthed a lot of b-tches, so my status ain’t the issue
all around the world, why my boss can’t see
that i’m bigger than the tasks that they givin’ to me?
lock sh-t down, ain’t livin’ on the street
it’s the first of the month, so a b-tch can’t sleep
can’t punch a clock, then a ho can’t eat
lockdown f-ckin’ with my money and my fees
covid got me popped, gigs lookin’ kinda steep
really sick of eatin’ ramen with a side of chopped cheese
chopped cheese, chopped cheese, chopped cheese, chopped cheese
[verse 3]
i don’t got no time for all the foolery
it seem like the whole f-ckin’ hood be on some coonery
tastemakers more concerned with f-ckin’ jewelry
been prophesysin’ since the mishka dropped eulogy
back in 2013, did y’all get all that?
hoes could never duplicate because it’s deeper than rap
had to ship my sh-t direct, so did you get that fax?
sis, you rhyme a lot of words, but i don’t hear no facts
hatin’ on the kid, i stay on track
serve my sh-t sashimi raw or lay my sh-t on wax
wack mcs be soundin’ botched like they hips don’t match
put the girdle to these beats and shape ’em just like that, ah
i’m too thorough, gettin’ through any borough
smile all in my face ’cause my doubters would hate to rumble
slackers bound to fumble, i’m usually on my humble
internet want me to pop, when i bubble, it’s gonna bubble, bubble

- cakes da killa proper villains

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