Testo No Reason - Grafh
Testo della canzone No Reason (Grafh), tratta dall'album Stop Calling Art Content (Deluxe Edition)
Know what I'm sayin', like
I've been in the dirt a long time, my G
Trappin' since high school
Word
Me and certain niggas ain't got nothin' in common
Feel me
Facts
You nice but I'm nice different
I turn grams of white bitches into tan light skin
That I'm the top chef, top chef, top chef
I make sure everything in the pot stretch
I'm the top chef, God bless
Birds by the flock slept inside of the bird box nest
I emerge on the curb in a hot step
I'm the gremlin in the dirt that got wet
I turn one brick into three
So as it twirl in the pot, it turn to a box set
You heard it was not murder, then god damn
I heard what you guys servin' is not fresh
What I twirl in the Pyrex turn to a five X
It rise 'til it's burnin' my bicep
Whole arm in the pot, from the bottom of the forearm to the top
I lost my whole arm when it locked
It forms like a smoke bomb when it drops
And it's all gone like a snowball when it's hot
And fuck your rap sheet
That don't tell nobody if you hard or you not
It just mean you got outsmarted outsmartin' the cops
That tough talk shit just get annoying
When I met rappers I looked up to, I was disappointed
Still wherever the dot land is where the pistol pointed
I'm in the kitchen, I'm mixin' the poison with the ointment
Blessed
Punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh
Punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
Brrr
Punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
I throw a TV at you, you crazy?
Just wanna punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
My attitude's all fucked up and real shitty
P
Trap god in Jesus name
When I come on the block, it feel like Jesus came
Don't compare me to your man, bitch, he's a lame
If he compare me to him, bitch, he's insane
I'm the top chef, top chef, top chef
You came late, you gotta take what I got left
I be makin' the crop fresh
This is hoodie season, nigga, I'm makin' a mock neck
School of hard knocks came with the grade and you got F's
Are you afraid of the Loch Ness that bathed in the swamp?
Yes, I'm breakin' a swan's neck
I'm the bird man, the devil comin' with crazy offers
Every time I smell crack burnin', it make me nauseous
New Ferrari, what's under the hood? Baby horses
Dry snitches try and break the law and tape recorders
I take a wall and make a fortress
I take the raw and bake a swordfish
I shake ya steak sauce, shakin' bacon
And eight ball like I'm makin' sausage
After I take the apron off, then I'm takin' all this
Punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh
Punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
Brrr
Punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
I throw a TV at you, you crazy?
Just wanna punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
My attitude's all fucked up and real shitty
P
Credits
Writer(s): Demetrius Robinson, Phillip Anthony Bernard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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