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letra de get out - hivemind

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[verse 1]
i’ve prolly wrote this song a hundred times by now
what’s even more depressing is my lack of know-how
can i write a f-ckin’ song? can i even f-ckin’ rap?
can i even make money, is that what you call a rack?
sh-t i’m ready for war, but i ain’t live in chiraq
in fact i’m strapped wit the pack, i never lack on attack
i’m not no lyrical miracle, i’m a typical cynical
guess you call this an interlude, sign me up for the interview
i can’t get out of this loop, i need a helping hand
been rapping for a year, bet you can barely stand
all my half–ssed sh-t, all that’s inadequate
yeah, i guess i’m an advocate yet i’m an under graduate
never thought i was p-ssionate, yet i’m runnin’ the game
stop comparing me to others, do it look like we the same?
i could slap ya f-ckin’ jaw and squeeze the blood up out ya brain
so just zip your f-ckin’ lips, unless you tryna entertain
l!ck the tip of my d-ck, with your lil’ b-tch–ss
shawty l!ckin’ her lips, i slap that lil’ b-tch -ss
everyone i know is movin’ way too fast
i guess i’ll meet ’em in la for the victory lap
all my rhymes signed, sealed, and delivered on time
you a lil punk–ss, you steppin’ way outta line
you steppin onto the track, train is on it’s way quick
your lack of apologies really makes me sick

[hook]
where the cash at, where the cash at? (uh-huh)
where ya p-ss at, where ya stash at? (uh-huh)
bet my last rack you ain’t have that (uh-huh)
why? ’cause you a m-th-f-ckin-f-ckin-f-ckin’

[verse 2]
street punks can’t dunk, b-tch boy, go flunk
shipyard, sh-t sank, goyard, leather face
shawty says you sweet but you ain’t got no motherf-ckin’ cake
and i’m not fond of fibbers, slice your liver leave you in ya grave
i shine, you whine, yo b-tch stay grinding
catch me in the west, boots with the white lining
f-ck ya mama and her mama, leave her -ss on read
but nah, i really f-cked ya mama, go check the bed spread
who the f-ck i’m talkin’ to, tell me if you’re listenin’
take out all ya homies, leave ya gang in decommissioning
i’m just f-ckin’ playin’, that was just the preconditioning
my .44 is stiffening yo b-tch just want the drizzling

[hook]
where the cash at, where the cash at? (uh-huh)
where ya p-ss at, where ya stash at? (uh-huh)
bet my last rack you ain’t have that (uh-huh)
why? ’cause you a m-th-f-ckin-f-ckin-f-ckin’

[verse 3]
buckshot, buckeye, fly up to ohio
we shoot and take the loot, what the f-ck is this, chicago?
you met your f-ckin’ maker, keep the ammo for my rivals
your blue bands micro, i might go phsyco!
you see what i mean? i swear this sh-t overplayed
in the end it’s the same sh-t on a whole different day
so i really can’t be happy, but you’ll never catch me sappy
so i’ll always be on top no matter what you f-ckin’ say, lil’ b-tch

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