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letra de dalma$hon - spark master tape

[intro]
“tell me somethin’, you can play, b-tch?”

[chorus: spark master tape]
uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, black bag (spark master tape)
black bag, get that gas, in they lung, gorillas
black bag, get that gat, gas, in they lung, pack (feel good)
black bag, get that, get that gas, in they lung

[verse 1: spark master tape]
bullet holes in the whip, sh-t looking like a dalma$$hon
hater face long like a cow face is
got a high steak, gotta milk what i make
make a rapper drop beef like a burger bar waitress
gun ’em down, gun ’em down, gun ’em down
in the coupe, in the car, blue crash, poof, let ’em drown
i’m livin’ proof, make a poof for the round
not in a booth and the truth, you a clown
you a goof, let it loose with the sound
you a rude poor dude with a pound
i got an army on the phone right now
they in ya lobby and they burn whole towns
no match that i know
and every dope rappers gettin’ corny and old
and they knows, listen to they songs and they flow (where you?)
an either wack cats not acknowledging so

[verse 2]
bullet holes in the crib, sh-t looking like a honeycomb
they was all down till the money gone
grease on my elbow with the funnybone
b-tch, it ain’t funny, get ya stomach blown
gone, gun ’em down, gun ’em down, gun ’em down
on the stoop on the bar stool, my tool spits rounds
your bullets move, but they move with a sound
my bullets move, cause a groove in the ground
see you snooze then you losin’ the crown
you don’t move then you lose, then you drown
f-ck the truth, you confused then you frown
b-tch you rich, suck a d-ck, buy a chow
back with the gang my hittas
back on the wall made of platinum swishers
back back, back with the gang, my hittas
plaque on the wall made of platinum, platinum

[verse 3]
bullet holes in the chest, got him lookin’ like swiss cheese
spark not the best? homie b-tch, please
clark with the gl-sses, i’m the sh-t, see?
ain’t no shoes in the game that ever fit me, ya get me?
run ’em up, run ’em up, run ’em up
i’ma turn the key, flip a key, make a g, then i duck
i hid my keys, then i leave you in the truck
you wanna leave me to be in my funk
and if i see you even breathe, you get dumped
i hope you sleep comfortably in the trunk
can’t even see u from this weed, and i’m drunk
you wanna see an mc? then look
alone in my urn, uh
had a bunch of friends, but they left when it burned
brrrr! ride ’till i die
f-ck ’em all, f-ck ’em all, f-ck ’em all, bow

[outro]
“ya like it?”

- spark master tape

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