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letra de war drums - quakers

[phat kat]
nowadays the music is free the shows cost money
no need to ring my phone if you ain’t got nothing for me
my fans told me kat you been chilling enough
now it’s time to come and crush ’em with the rugged and rough
dirty coach yeah i see you, wouldn’t wanna be you
smoke more weed than the n-gga wiz khalifa
catch me backstage setting off smoke detectors
designer ganja collector, marijuana professor
??? some sh-t my man called god’s v-g-n-
soon as he fired up you never smelt nothing finer
was that your hottest man, send him over, i wanna meet him
what he said, i couldn’t believe him
had to fry him, fric-ssee him
little broke -ss n-gga still working for per diem
my n-ggas stay grinding from the am to the pm
get caught at end of the barrel, you wouldn’t want to be him
f-cking with some gladiators in the coliseum

[guilty simpson]
i’m colder than a billionaire’s shoulders
you put stock in him, these slugs are shareholders
i’m working on my temper, don’t tempt me fool
i make ’em swan dive from balconies in empty pools
my flavor ride for the faculty, empty tools
super soak ’em til sh-t get fool from the heat
oxymoron, vegetables from the beef
try saying that sl!ck sh-t without t–th
i do the sh-t the average motherf-cker won’t do
and say the sh-t the average emcee can’t f-ck with
you’re stupid if you thinking that that b-tch want you
with me she get lucky, with you she get stuck with
we playing with big budgets
spit muskets, hit harder than d-ck butkus
you sneak out restaurants running out on your bill
while i’m really ’bout to ante on that house on the hill, ill

- quakers

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