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letra de tirade - gnarlee

[opening: gnarlee]
they ask what’s a mob to a king?
but what’s a king without his m-sses
what’s an artist without vision
devoid of gl-sses and palette?
what is slumber to the dreamers?
or tonsils to the speakers?
what’s a fanboy without hitting
his idols up for a feature?
so what’s a microphone to gnarlee?
here’s some advice before asking me

[verse: gnarlee]
you see the mic be a katana
i balance up on my shoulder
bars are sharper than you early
morning wake up cup of folgers
did you find that in my folder?
better known as off the record
go one hundred with no effort
and still ain’t n0body colder
young samurai gon’ be chopping
with the shoguns of his time
won’t be able to watch the throne anymore
with all the lights, uh
spittin’ like dealin’
my words sound almost illicit
twisted mental had me feeling
all of the different visions
and i’m still focused, on the pursuit
looking too clean, like a herschel
ye hater, you gon’ know me
oh lord, i’m wilin’ off the 40, hold me
shawty is bumping, she might be
rolling like lauren
you ain’t ever seen my sweatin’
too much ambition like folarin
don’t say i changed, i just found out
how to be open, and you might be
feeling this flow but asking
“what’s the importance?” well
ask yourself what’s music to lee savage?
is it something like an outlet?
more or less something that comes out
when the mind is feeling clouded?
is it a plot, or a scheme?
something devoid, of a dream?
the path on which he searches
for that endless cream?
it’s not me just tryna make it
or sentiments emptying
this is p-ssion, this is drive
simply put, this is everything

- gnarlee

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