Savage Nomad

Fuck school, stole the scales out of chemistry class (Step)
And made it all come back like memory lapse (Yeah)
I'm in that matte black 'Lac, strap under the floor mat (Uh)
A weather man it be, I predict the forecast (Yeah)

Shower any beat with the dirtiest vocab
This was the seventies, I'd be a savage nomad (Step)
Shirtless with a vest, stayin' warm by burnin' trash
Give a toe tag to a broke-ass who sold fast for slow cash (Yeah)

Who you think ya dealin' with? My resume is killa, bitch (Style)
Dealt with so much pain that I don't even know what feelin' is
Block of boarded houses, in between them lie the killin' fields (Yeah)
Been through so many raids, we treat that shit like it's a fire drill
Mayday, mayday, sound the alarm (Woo)

No ice on my neck but she love me for my charm
Might sniff on the weekend and sip on some XO (Style)
Back up in this bitch like I just fucked my ex-ho
My vocal take a green beret
Kill the verse, leave booth decay (Uh-huh)
Service when I word it, sweet enough to leave a tooth decay (Uh)

Oreo charades, a game of "O" like in her day
Heard your music, feel sorry for anybody that plays
Or sprays or even says that they like your shit (Style)
Nigga, I'm far from a ho, but life's a bitch (Uh-huh)
And if any other nigga got a problem with me
I'll pull up on your playground at a quarter to three, motherfucker

(Check) Now who you think you're dealin' with?
The flow Chinese arithmetic (Style)
Trippin' if they get real, nasty like black licorice (Uh-huh)
Always on some different shit, your whole style is impotent
I ignore a whore like an email from LinkedIn (Huh)
I put you further in that hole that you sleepin' in (Yeah)
Mixin' Ripple, listening to Minnie Riperton (Yeah)

It's quite simple, I'm mental, all over instrumentals
Detrimental to health, lyrics is quintessential (Style)
Fuck around and— ayy (Ayy), make the— make money ('Ney)
I'll whip your head, they gotta wrap it up like you was hit (I'll whip your head, boy)
No compete contain you, doc attendin' to you
They come down, they end up the way a fairy tale (Mm)

Every day same shit, different porta-potty
Fuck the game up, you niggas buzzin' like a tyke
Bunch of Danny copies but they trash and sloppy (Slop)
Mistake that for the real and you deserve a highway robbery



Credits
Writer(s): Daniel Sewell, Deven Andrew Welch, Otakar Petrina
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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