letra de cyber outsider - wolfthorn & xrne
[intro, xrne]
(mhm, mhm, mhm
e da da, e da da
e da da
xrne)
[hook, xrne]
she say she wetter wetter
than some water
pull up in a scooter
shoot up that bazooka all over the room
you might catch a fade
keep that scope 8 times zoom
i don’t need no help
these b-tches wear bape
two thousand and ten
spend dollars like apes
i buy that terrain
real money estate, right under my chain
get that bag
call it louie
and on god
d-mn i be blooming
finessing like messi
(her, she messy)
hair tight in a bun
left hand be hеr gun
the demon outrun
your homies my sons
(what?)
your homiеs my sons, huh
[verse 1, xrne]
(she say she wetter wetter
than some water
pull up in a scooter
shoot up that bazooka (pop))
these b-tches bamboozled
all over the room
all over the room
all over the room
(yeah yeah, xrne)
[verse 2, wolfth-rn]
generate but we won’t regenerate
celebrate all the talents and all the voices who create
genuine art ‘cause it’s been made from the heart
yeah, we all came so far and we won’t fall apart
they’ll make me sing even when i’m dead
even if it’s just for a silly little f-cking trend
yeah, we’re sick and tired, y’all are consumed by desire
i’ll return to mother earth but they won’t let me retire (yuh)
i’m a cyber outsider
don’t k!ll my flame ‘cause i got a lighter
aim for my goals, yeah call me a sniper
never give up ‘cause i am a fighter
they’re talking sh-t, but i stay deaf
they call it new, i say: “art theft”
i don’t need ai assistance
(please just give me human wisdom)
pick up a pen, pick up some paper
do it again, put in the labor
‘cause that’s art (yeah)
real art (yeah)
[hook, xrne]
she say she wetter wetter
than some water
pull up in a scooter
shoot up that bazooka all over the room
you might catch a fade
keep that scope 8 times zoom
i don’t need no help
these b-tches wear bape
two thousand and ten
spend dollars like apes
i buy that terrain
real money estate, right under my chain
(get that bag
call it louie
and on god
d-mn i be blooming
finessing like messi
(her, she messy)
hair tight in a bun
left hand be her gun
the demon outrun
your homies my sons
(what?)
your homies my sons, huh)
[vocal chops]
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