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letra de 2015 tyler and earl - nat plastic

[verse 1: nat plastic]
they say, “don’t throw stones if you live in a glass house”
well, i live in a glass castle
so i’m launching catapults and flaming arrows
i hope it’s not a hassle
3 a.m., pupils the size of pennies
mixing tabs with the grand slam from denny’s
you know i pay my meal in all twenties
every chance i get, i’m yelling out, “free titus”
rappers spit sh-t, give them lame gingivitis
so try this, a samurai in sk8-his
like futuristic snake eyes, i’ll serve you with some steak fries
out in the tropics teaching shamans ’bout the great skies
trading knowledge for hеrb and jewels, what a great prizе

[verse 2: ameer vann]
i’m getting baggy eyes selling dimes late at night
i’m just tryna get my payment right
it’s all about the payment, right?
taking sections of pavement, every movement is sacred
puppet masters [?]
pack a tool for your safety
’cause these scumbags will get to tweaking and shaking
a new youth in the nation taking it all with the billions
just save it, don’t spend it
all i want is a million played grammys and plane tickets
[verse 3: nat plastic]
bong rips to my cerebellum
they always know what i mean, i don’t really gotta tell ’em
scrawling writtens on the vellum
survival of the fittest, run a marathon, why you kick a flagellum?
put my katana away, the [?]
the fiends won’t wait, so i gotta move weight
pick up a few zips, that’s the bags and the milk crate
trap house jumping like jordan, so i skate

[chorus: ameer vann and nat plastic]
i done lost my mind ’bout a week ago, ’bout a week ago, about a week ago
rolling through your city and we creeping slow
getting accustomed to crime, but i ain’t tweaking, though, i ain’t tweaking, though, i ain’t tweaking, though
dodging cops and always grinding for the love of my people

[verse 4: nat plastic]
pockets stuffed with [?] pens and papers
a villain with the [?] flow lighter than vapor
black magic attack on the track with no crack
just the chronic, shawn kemp, i’m supersonic
got mad gems that drop and stones to throw
we’re all black and i’m high like a murder of crow
don’t you know?
that’s how by, hit ollies over potholes
drag my feet in streets and it would never crush my doc soles

- nat plastic

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