letra de the big bangaroom - silver kryptonite - nate kiz
[intro]:
silver kryptonite
let’s get it in tonight
[verse]: proper aristoi
bulldozin’ the compet-tion
sumo to a squad of ninjas
you ain’t bout that life
you a contradiction
last kid stepped and he got a whippin’
prop. a. been on a mission
f-ck being rich, need a pot to p-ss in
stop with the gimmick
clockin’ a cynic
bong and a picnic’s our tradition
overloadin’ stay afloat’n
with ya girl im motorboating
rap on beats i stay corrosive
talkin swag you’re stayin hopeless
raw talent spoutin’ dopeness
endlessly i’ll slow your motion
takin’ a notion cause a commotion
gen. d. potent, potent
beastin’ with ease i release on a beat
keeping your beez on a leash on her knees
sleeping on me is a crime, so do your time
sit down and hear me speak
deep streets, mobbin’ out explorin’ them
find my around the town n disestablish ordinance
drunk strapped in chainmail broadsword and morion
take it back to the past in a dmc-12 delorean
cornerin a lil bit more than all the stories and glory of those at war
i implore to settle scores and
open doors many more and than anybody before
for sure to never step they f-ckin foot on my sh0r-s
bulletin board, crowded with the talk of the town
see i’m the sh-t which explains why you ain’t talkin it now
i spit provocative nouns
between a rock and an ounce and i bounce no frown
i ain’t down f-ck a hard place
find me with the hard b-ss
what in tarnation thank you based god wait
its been a long day
but i’ll be up all night
like an owl perched, got the future in my sights, like
this is for me (huh)
remember that?
prolly not but proper’s back
freedom writer fire igniter
street fighter combo attack
k!llin’ it all when i sit and relax
sayin’ they dope, spittin’ the facts
truth is a lie, theyre kittens at that
crashin’ these cats with the force of a tidal wave
rollin’ up the reefer i’m chiefin’ it in a bible page
primal rage got me on that calm rap sh-t
back flip to flip back all while i stack chips
your wack scripts is showin you lackin simple direction son
spit bullets tear skin fiercer than protective guns
guessin’ and pressin’ the b-ttons to jump
lump in the throat of the wretchedest punks
but i’m the blessed one, all y’all best’d run
vested in what i’ll be bestin for some interested as one with a sentece on drums
questionin’ what i been doin as if it nothin but true intervention of love
gettin’ it done my method is questin’ impressin’ the present
relentless apprentice my future’s above what you thinking ive done
[outro]:
and that’s all i gotta say, for today
thanks nate, ay and vinnie skullo, skullo, ullo, ‘ello
h-llo
goodbye
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