Dishreshpectful

Mama's wrist is full of rose gold
Drippin' in ice yeah feelin' blessed
You must have had too much caffeine
I see you, you looking stressed
Homie blue then homie red
Homie who you wid?
Homie you rep?
Tomorrow homie's all in rainbow
They rep no gang but the fucking trend
You C me everywhere
Compton, Crodie, you know the deal
You B me everywhere
Bompton, brodie, you know the meal
Your top five rappers on my dinner plate
At Maxim's, Nando's, or Steak 'n Shake
Tell me what kinda sound does a Dariush make?
With a fifth of liquor and a loaded gage?

No kizzy the mazza is real
Wiping my ass with your label and deals
Like wiping my ass with a five dollar bill
You can keep it lil man
It gained value for real
Catch me outside, your cap could get peeled
Cappin so much you is locked on the letters
Cappin so much you be screaming the letters
Kaepernick much, now you bow down and kneel

See no colors, daltonian
I'm aiming all
Black and white, dalmatian
I beat 'em all
Purple, green, blue
I ain't prejudiced
I kill 'em all
On an ice cream cone, you finna ball
Still on top of you, be the sprinkles on

Sittin in Café de la Paix
Thinking of war on all you suckas
I ain't even gonna rest
Till I rest all of you suckas
RIP all of you suckas
Put you on tees motherfuckers
Put you on badges and "long live" you on the banners
Get rid of all of suckas
They asking me how am I doing this music
I told 'em my ears is full resentment
Revising the game like I'm making amendments
Water it down homies needin' refreshments
Shit just makes sense to me
You had to be there
Now you cant say you roll with me
Pull up in -
Pull up in chromes with me
I do romance, I do gang gang
Like I switch time zone
Ain't no bromance, ain't no gang gang
'Less we matching Tahoes
Ain't no boy here, ain't no kiddo
Man's beard all grown
Muslim ting, man don't get close
No pigs, no blue clones

Annoying as hell like tourists in Paris
Like tourists in Rome
They waitin' in line from the store I was in
To the gate of my home
Setting the tone like a telephone ring
I don't answer phone
Blocking your road like a traffic cone
Ak-47 leaving drastic holes
You owe me motherfucker
Massive loans
In the US they call me a graphic homes
It's been a while since I've been home
Tell me who runs what
Is the hood still owned?
Get out the trenches
World war one, is the game still on?
Y'all get shaky, plank stand
Fuck this uzi, extend the clip
Make that thing go backspin
Slap 'em up, go back hand
Most of you bitches been touched
Most of you brothers been touched
Sex or bullet I'll do you both
All of you better go hush



Credits
Writer(s): Dariush Sharaghi
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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