Testo Glass Shoppin' - Willie The Kid feat. V Don & Vado
Testo della canzone Glass Shoppin' (Willie The Kid feat. V Don & Vado), tratta dall'album Deutsche Marks 2
Broken glass
Half a man in the stash
CCP
You never know who the traitor
Stock tips, trade winds in the tropics
A Trader Joe's run, double park in a drop six
The weather changing
I'm reevaluating the places I'm hanging
They crucifying all the messengers
Hang em high
I'm occupied with survival
The best niggas die
Leave a legacy unfulfilled, a heavy burden
I guess you never seen the other side of the curtain
Where the serpents disappear, appear safe
Deceptive, misplaced trust, a commonplace
A commoner but the car foreign
A stand up guy, it's ironic I'm encoring
Smooth as a Commodore, the most iconic
Never been for play-play
Mayday, cause melees await you in your heyday
Niggas wait till you way up, then pull you down
A cliffhanger but I blick bangers
Compressors, you won't hear a sound
Present danger, don't talk to strangers
Walk in closet, marble hangers
Count the money till it's carpal tunnel
Niggas go broke then get humble
Stumbling on karma
They legalized weed in Michigan, become a farmer
From Ball Street to Wall Street, the martyr saga
Dearly beloved
You gotta love it
All I think is money, cocaine when that flame hit the kettle
Got a lot of lames in this game, man I tell you
Try to maintain, keep your name from the devil
And stay on the pedal, no way Imma settle
Or ever call it quits, lit chain and the bezel
Hit a lot of chicks before the fame, man I'm special
You was on my dick when I came in the shuttle
When you do dirt, the only thing you gain is a shovel
A hundred grams I made with a couple bands
Then came with another plan, got money my other mans
Cashiers and tellers, I tell ya I done the scams
Crack in my underpants, hoping you understand
Fresh from Jamaica now a money maker
Manhattan like what's happening, point me to the paper
Life a bitch, you can't escape her when you need a favor
Plotting on another caper where the lick is major
In all black, dressed for combat
Rob the diamond district yelling give me all that
For 4 flat they on your head, no ball cap
Shooters laying on your stoop near your doormat
Fill up the duffel then we outta there
Cops coming gunning while we running like fuck outta here
Throw the uzi, hit the movies, change the auto wheel
Then we disappear in Times Square, without a fear
Vado
Credits
Writer(s): Teeyon Winfree, Tivon Key, Willie L. Buckley
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