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letra de mutt muzik - dakoda boutilier

[verse]
i’ve been in the back with the packs, fronted
i’ve been wit’ the straps sippin’ yak, gunnin’
i’ve been gettin’ stacks, statin’ facts, drummin’
i be in the packs wit’ the wraps, blunted
“dakoda you done done it”
“how the f-ck you always on it”
in the streets and f-ck around
run round and on some dumb sh-t
know i always crunk it
always on it, pop a nugget
then k!ll beats and say i’m blazin’
it’s amazin’ how i run it
industry f-ckers hear my sound they wanna sign me
get inside my head and invite me for my rhymin’
number one for timing, i’ma pop off on the charts
f-ck a couple thots, feelin’ shady breakin’ hearts
fill a couple carts and i’ll probably have them sold
fill a quick prescription ‘fore i head out on the road
my neck is decked with gold and my watch is full of ice
comin’ around my block, f-ck around and you’ll be sliced
sugar and spice, i want everything twice!
grab a double-up, better make it look nice
ship a couple drops and i want ’em on the road
shawty wanna claim me but i’m sorry cause i’m sold
married to the game, i’m engaged with my money
never wanted fame, before ‘cane was a hobby
catch me with my shawty and we dippin’ in the benz
probably have a late night when i’m f-ckin’ on her friends
still settin’ trends, still gettin’ sends
still countin’ paper, make it rain and flippin’ tens
still keep it g if a f-cker wanna try me
still with my team with the 40 right beside me
it’s money over b-tches and you better take the shortcut
on her hands and knees
like a b-tch and on the floor f-cked
told her kids to scram
better keep that bedroom door shut
your momma suckin’ d-ck
she’s been beggin’ for a sore c-nt
four months with no d-ck
ridin’ on my pole stick
beggin’ me to suck her cl-t
askin’ me to smash her chick
told that b-tch to make it fit
spitted on her ass and tit
pass that drank, stash that tip
she spitted on my c-ck and dip
fast skyline speedin’ i been rippin’ around the trap house
call your girlfriend “cuddle” but instead i bruise her back out
i’m a thug, you lose, i pack down
better back down, pass that bag
really got my set turnt
smack d-mn, k!ller cop that jag’
gun shooter brag, got my cheques and hoes comin’
proud i had nothin’, remember starved at school, was bummin’
now i’m up and ain’t it somethin’
like that rose that grew from concrete
?

- dakoda boutilier

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