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letra de culture [deluxe version] - jabsteelow

[pre-hook: règgiē]
fantasizing about the high life
in a hammock chugging a high life
at my pinnacle thinking about the timeline (tl)
unidentical visuals, f-ck the guidelines (ooh)
ooh, yeah n-gga it’s rhyme time (yep)
i tried to tell them don’t t-t-for-tat with the twilight (uh)
she on the dresser i cracked the treasure while under pressure (ooh)
as i undress her she moaning whatever, then she told me

[hook: jab steelow]
i need more money
i need more dough
i need more honey’s
i need more hoes
i need more songs
i need more flows
i need more gross
i need more (free)
i need more money
i need more dough
i need more honey’s
i need more hoes
i need more songs
i need more flows
i need more gross
i need more (free)

[verse 1: jab steelow]
intuition to strengthen a niqqa’s inner vision
really feeling the void avoiding an intervention
feeling villainous on a voyage for joy in venice
(yeah)
young ventriloquist with the rhythm and sentences
synthesizers etc., meddling with the melodies
marinate and amphetamines swimming all in my blood stream (blood stream)
i f-ck with the thrill of it, its a junk thing
i be seeing sh-t differently when the mud pink (free)
you can find all my enemies in a mud bank
cuzzo know what it’s finna be we don’t duck (wait)
ain’t no acting too freindly with my funds
i’ma run a muck like a centipede on the track

[verse 2: règgiē]
we gone enter your system we taking over your trap
me, i’m the ticket to get your interest in
rapping about the premise the chemist went through apprentice
experiments with the essence the second it went to relish (look)
we try finessing progressing like playing tetris
suppressing the situation with lessons
when you address me
the greatest of celebration will take into expectation
i’m racing, chasing with patience that led to the placement
(i’m pacing, pacing, pacing, pacing)
i’m pacing like pacers getting the good life
i’m aching, craving to capture haven above life
baking like raisins under the sun with bud light
baking like raisins in sun with bud light

[verse 3: règgiē]
the studio a ufo evasion
her style’s croatian, the body’s malaysian
she’s icy-hot like snow on the equator
i know a paul, so do i know galatians
i ain’t appalled from all these f-cking haters
i’m tired of y’all, tell it to your neighbor
this tylenol for all that misbehaving (sh-t)
the dialogue’s not meant for the phrasing (b-tch)

[verse 4: jab steelow]
we’re testing your intellect
quizzing you with a cadence
we craving that currency
currently from the caymans
can’t wait to acc-mulate
capital for the cannabis
the content of my character could win me a continent
a cul-de-sac or something
n-gga i want a lot of sh-t, i want a monument
maybe a monterey no no f-ck it, my mama crib
make sure i look dominate
dashing, daring and honest, yes
bury me wearing junk apparel, anonymous
i’m tearing my peers up in pairs, i’m arguing
no man can copy this
(this sh-t is copy-write, copy that?)
probably off of an opiate
bout to off me an alderman
told the opera to sing

- jabsteelow

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