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letra de lmk - seth hirsch

[intro]
oh, dang
seth, seth hirsch
aye!

[chorus]
let me know, let me know
let me know, let me know
let me know, let me know
let me know, let me know
is this thing on? (let me know)
did i do my job? (let me know)
can i kick it? (let me know)
do you feel it? (let me know)
let me know, let me know
let me know, let me know
let me know, let me know
let me know, let me know
is this thing on? (let me know)
did i do my job? (let me know)
can i kick it? (let me know)
do you feel it? (let me know)

[verse 1]
they told me roll the dice
but didn’t know there’s midas in my knuckles
flying spirals touching doubles, finest heismans in my huddle
once upon a hustle, moved on from rapunzel to my dungeon
crown heights, i scored the sword from stone, performed the ickey shuffle
it’s a crying shame, look at me the phoenix in the lion’s den
fleeing out the frying pan to put the hate on ice again
filling out this form again, so mornings i am sorta fed
no hip hop heads will snore on seth
those sleeping are in a morgue in bed
morgan out to bedford catching tickets on my skateboard
undercover issue, rappers diss you, when you get under their skin tissue
and over their minds
mine is a gold and coal mine combined
so applying pressure gets you diamonds
squeezed out the tear ducts from both my eyes
my solo mission with rojo lipstick they’re blowing kisses
showing no interest, need to keep it at no instances or coincidences
limitless i’m bradley cooper with the pills
rally up the troops to alley oop the dude
like the crown at loudville (ok!)

[verse 2]
i’m going on my tangent, no cosign, no checks to cash
went to seventh ave to get a cab but all my credit’s maxed
hundred meter dash, i’m michael johnson with a nike sponsor
record stop watch timer conquered by my swift departure
do you follow me?
chocolate chip waffle me (le’ go!)
i was comatose then woke up in the studio, coffee me
ronald mcdonald mc’s
model t carbon copy clowns to me
sound like bobby brown to me
no longer looking down on me (aye)
my momma’s latkes, i’m sizzling, sipping tropicana
was chilling at quad spitting off of the oblongata
little simba on the rocks with his papa mufasa
mi casa, su casa
we ‘bout to be in the building i’m knocking, yeah
these beats b-mping i’m a heated oven ‘bout to bake
i swear i’m ‘bout the bread and ‘bout the cake
i don’t stay around you flakes
counterfeits get off my counterweights, records ‘bout to break
every second i had to wait
and now i’m out the gate (oh!)

- seth hirsch

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