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letra de palm trees - kaine carter

[intro: kaine carter]
tell ’em what it is
tell ’em what it is

[chorus: gold’n buddha & kaine carter]
smooth cruisin’ with the gang
(in a place where the palm trees grow, where the palm trees grow)
smooth cruisin’ in the lane
(in a place where the wind don’t blow, in a place where the wind don’t blow)
smooth cruisin’ with the gang
(in the whip got the jazz on low, got the jazz on low)
smooth cruisin’ in the lane
(we gon’ ride till the sun explode, we gon’ ride till the sun explode)
smooth cruisin’ with the gang

[verse 1: kaine carter]
low rider, left the candy red viper home
two shots in the chest and confirmation on the dome
the rolling stones, living live cruising past the palm trees
ridin’ in my impala all week

[bridge: kaine carter]
riding, i’m riding
yo b-tch be crying, she crying
these n-ggas lying, they lying
i’m steady flying, flying a jet
aw guess who’s next?
got the nine glock to ya chest
you better have the kevlar vest

[verse 2: kaine carter]
one way street, it’s down the road from who i used to be
avenues intersect at who i am and choose to be
the driveway i’m parking in the newer me, so fluidly
ridin’ in my impala all week
living here in the attic, brain close to the stars
scratch my head like the addicts
cuz my thoughts get erratic
slow down!
rolling on the ‘vard, rolling on the boulevard
bumping all them palm tree sounds

[verse 3: gold’n buddha]
palm trees
under palm trees sipping palm wine
fine dime, and she aged well like some fine wine
high mind, brain on a jet or a skyline
high mind like we ain’t text in a long time
past thoughts, i can’t p-ss that like a p-ssword
can’t let it go like a n-gga want the last word
gamble with the demons every memory a cash word

[verse 4: kaine carter]
we past words
the figure 8 skater off the bottle-shaped baby-making shawty on my arm, sippin’ dom
calm before the storm of the wrong n-ggas to be messed with
play it smooth as casanova, p-ssy flavor nesquik
too busy loving to be fighting, try me
f-ck it i forgot your name your fan mail remind me
split yo wig with extended niney’s till yo fitted ain’t fitting fine, he
laying on the pavement
d-mn its a shame sh-t’s crazy again
your enemies made from your friends

[verse 5: gold’n buddha]
and speaking of these judases, i’m christ-like
a g*nius in the dark you would think my sh-t a nightlight
spittin’ holy scriptures while i’m sippin’
pages sticky, staying with me
bread and fish all on my plate
i multiply my one too many
one too many backstabbers try to k!ll me they a cancer
cut ’em off and pray for em, mama told me that was manners
if he snitch he gotta die, papa told me that’s a standard
when i write i black on white
i got the pen doing pandas

- kaine carter

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