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letra de tact - dreadgeist

[verse 1: dreadgeist]
come in wit’ the kickdrum, spare guns to shoot at n-ggas that don’t respect us
just took yo ass out the picture
my n-gga, you can’t fix her if she don’t wanna be saved
a lot of sh-t on my plate, shoutout all my slaves in the house, man, we ain’t goin back
we packin’ luggages like nasdaq
that’s why i got the new hi-tech, no more bufferin’
why they got tics like they stutterin’, still in my early teens, feel like it’s 2018 ’cause life is stunnin’, my n-gga
f-ck these n-ggas, we stunners
i got shootas and gunnas (bro really?)
nah, i’m kiddin’
but the way i’m spittin’ feelin’ like bullets enterin’ in the clip
got that sh-t that make it seem like it’s off the rip
bump heavy ’cause these n-ggas boutta bumrush in like bumkid

[verse: bumkid]
dancing while rapping tip tappin’ y’all asses
kit casket on track makin’ scat sound fantastic
elastic bombastic sh-t momma ain’t jazzin’
but y’all tad in lackin’ intense reenactment b-tch
fact y’all ain’t havin’ it this is extravagant gas mask intact with cement glass and lasting sh-t
bumkid start laughing fits always the natural wit’ kid ain’t no quitting sh-t outta that wack ass list
(hood) trag pop cap in yalls aspect it last till death – sad that all left ‘fore his gat was a mask defect
rappers act stagger when tragic go manic grab mic and y’all static bros flow be ‘maculate
collab overshadow it k!ll yo whole rap and spit k!ll yo whole fam and kids ‘clude that one bummy kid
bros ass is now dead tragic went and stab kid was fun while i lasted eat the brains like a government
[verse 2: dreadgeist]
n-ggas actin like zombies, see these n-ggas shootin’ at the clique, we an army
f-ck out my face with that backdoor, we smokin’ outdoors, b-tch, i’m so tactful
trick or treat at the front door, i’m like dexter in the lab while i master flows
n-ggas sick, i’m snifflin’ bad, needa blow my nose
don’t forget you a target now, i’ll see u at home, y’all my sons, i ain’t givin’ y’all props
n-gga, if i ain’t hip, you a hippie
n-gga, you ain’t sick, u don’t need syringes
whinin’ like a baby, but you ain’t no preemie
actin’ like u ain’t workin a 9-5, grown ass f-ckin’ man
stop it and get off my godd-mn tip
y’all n-ggas would k!ll for a diss
crashbox, y’all n-ggas distracted like dora smarmy
if i don’t get what i want, y’all n-ggas harmin’ me, sh-t

- dreadgeist

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