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letra de gemini (live in chicago) - oliver francis

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[intro]
check, check
if you know the words, make your way to the front
if you don’t know the words, get out of the way

[verse]
b-tches, rappers, rappers, b-tches
way y’all talkin’ on twitter
lil’ boy, i can’t tell the difference
purple herb in my swisher
yeah, lil’ aahj is my witness
pull up, engine so vicious
that seven digits the mission, listen
60 fps, these other rappers movin’ slo-mo
i was broke as sh-t but now i’m drippin’ in some polo
i don’t pay for promo
i stay on the low-low
i’m the kid who run the game, call it miyamoto
b-tch, i’m heaven-sent
this is just my gеnesis
marble floor my residеnce
pocket full of presidents
my money so thick that i cannot fold this sh-t
talkin’ all that sh-t on twitter, lil’ b-tch, kindly hold my d-ck
yeah, i’m gettin’ to the bag
watch me double park the whip
my lil’ shawty break it down
roll it up and spark the sh-t
you gon’ respect me as a lyricist
i ain’t just a haircut
i ain’t just a face tat
i’m sendin’ shots at everyone
keep all that designer, i rock polo and tommy
rollin’ up my marijuana while she give me the sloppy
and all you trash ass soundcloud rappers, i surpassed you
b-tch i’m in the aston, i’m blowin’ past you
you might see me do the dash, blowin’ gas out the sunroof
lil’ b-tch, i’m so great, i can’t relate to not a one of you
can’t n0body keep me down or hold me from nothin’
if i want it, i’ma get it, man, it ain’t no discussion
as of lately, i been tryna write a rap with some substance
i was sick and tired of tryna be somebody i wasn’t
i ain’t in this for a check, i do this sh-t ’cause i love it
know i won’t stop at nothin’
i take that
how you rock designer, but you look like a clown?
how i pull up to your city and i shut the sh-t down?
gettin’ paper, i just copped a mercedes, i’ll catch you later
stepped up out the scr-per, ballin’ like a laker in some purple bapestas
b-tch, i think i’m feelin’ myself
shawty dice that pineapple that replenish my health
b-tch it’s lit, find me with my clique
smokin’ out the zip
guy fieri with the sauce, paul walker with the whip, b-tch
[chorus]
i hate flexin’ but i can’t help it
droptop burnt out on the pavement
dope rolled, in some polo
let the champagne flow, throwin’ c-notes, yeah
backwoods rolled, vacay for the weekend
couple girls gettin’ high in the deep end
you want to, you should come through
got the champagne flutes and the orange juice, ah yeah

[outro]
ah yeah, yeah, yeah
ah yeah
one more time
ah yeah

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