Really Sorry

Yo yo yo, uh
Just call me back

Frontside Crooked on the flat bar
Lines in my head flash past like a fast car
Autobahn speed break the dial on speedometer
Too many miles cracked a smile for odometer
Whippin' in a rental car from Avis
Trumpet on my arm call me Kilometres Davis
I F your whole A-list
Skipped the whole playlist
Rock a beat faceless, but the patience of a sage is
Safe to say, I played the game, I'm over it

Flavoring ways will waste away your ownership
Copy-paste your haste then come up short again
It pays to know your place, I'm in the audience
As I flip a Tom penny into a wishing well
Arto be starry as I'm Geoff to kiss and tell
Uh, I'm Salabanzi with the Ponzi scheme
You couldn't rattle off names from a radder team
A dope lad but I'm not from the PJs
Laying with your lady in an Appleyard
BJs for days, casted as the room for for the DJs

Blast the trade bomb and Los Angeles raise
Uh, Ali Boulala Land
25 stairs, I ain't lying out in France
Feeling on the handrail, lying in some vomit
Cats claiming they grinding, in reality they're grommets, honest
I am really sorry for my contents
I'm traumas with the offense as you trauma with your comments
I hit clips from a minute like Cerezini
Shouts to Bones and Biggie, eating toast with my linguini
Uh, I'm Johnny Rotten with the monologue

An antichrist with the ambience, only joking
I'm only smoking just on occasion
But rest assured when I'm Tokyo, I'm looking Asian
Viet-nah, I'm only playing
You're Beijing, color that is aging like raisin
Raising the flat bar just a notch
She's just a crush looking for some crotch, why not?
I be like Roger Klotz the way I bully with you big in the past tense
Lines over my head looking like back in the days
Racking up plays but remained underground

Hogs stay in the plains that were mazed, and I'll say it again
Sorry, mushroom graphic on my board, face foggy
Fourth place, probably
Back when Spitfire was a hobby with the bearings
Now I spit fire, it's apparent
I give a new definition to airy
Glifberg in the bowl with the piff burm, learning to transfer
Independent with my credits
Subtle balance, watching wheels turn over granite
I'm moving mountains now that Lance is understanded

I'm the new-school old-school level two rampant
Rebel caused champion
Bevel gloss stamping
Never used hands on the meaning of my landing
I grip tapes and pass sticks after shows
It's the only way I know to show the pros I understand shit
Fast playing, while the competition's boneless
Now that's how you flip a beat, shout out to Bones Swiss



Credits
Writer(s): Michael Delfosse, Josh Braunstein
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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