Chester Watson - Museums lyrics

[Chester Watson - Museums lyrics]

The museum swole, no flex
Wanna listen esoterics if you looking forward
And you just found the one who's next
Loud music, mad cheese, hella bitches
Liquor pouring got some museum gold on deck
No stress no sweat
Is he foreign, not a nigga
Just fresh just chill

Swag on a mil if you think that you got me
With back in the corner-
My nigga go gag on a pill all-black cloak
And formally threaded and furing
Some all-black twill
Jeans and the team carry all-black still
No joke smoke so much dope-
If a nigga was a fishie I
Bet I'd have all-black gills-
And I still got bitches in the back seat
I ain't even got a fuckin' back seat
Sayin' that you saw me at the track meet
I ain't never go to the track meets, boy
I was at home making mad beats
Now my beats fatter than the fat beach (oi)
Doing shows in other countries-
Getting dough in other countries-
Back and forth so much you'd
Think I've been deployed
Just a nigga from the art scene
You can bet that my chick hella artsy
You can tell that we live in the star stream
So you can bet that we live at the party
Fuck, I'm feeling barfy
Mad zoot, hella drunk this a malarkey
No clue where I'm going but it's far, B
With a foreign crew
Got your boo in a car seat

The museum swole, no flex
Wanna listen esoterics if you looking forward
And you just found the one who's next
Loud music, mad cheese, hella bitches
Liquor pouring got some museum gold on deck
No stress no sweat
Is he foreign, not a nigga
Just fresh just chill

Went from bowl after bowl
To bowl where did they ball?
Where did they see?
I'm used to smoking all the pain away
Now I'm scraping resin from a bong
I ain't used in some months
Just cruising up the coast
All these niggas think I boast
Really getting it and I just need
A brew and some blunts
Belly dancing bitches in some all-black
Getting heavy while I'm hitting it
She think I'm bruising her cunt
I'm the truth no comfort
(I'm the truth no comf)
Need proof that you run shit
Do what it do and she do it for numbers
Dude got the juice but the
Juice got some chunks in
Don't fuck with you 'cause
Your crew ain't nothing
And my crew kinda something
Infused with these basses
The moon is my conscience
In tune with the waves and
I loom on the starships
Still got the juice but the
Juice in the lunch bin
No truce, straight warfare
Witches with me still got
Zoot with the munchkins
Trees mad dank, need more
AR seeing 50 shades of the blue next Monday
User invasive, I'm losing
Consciousness fuck what you say got
Two pairs of Huaraches
Ones I can skate and a pair I can walk in
No stunt, chill

'Cause the museum swole, no flex
Wanna listen esoterics if you looking forward
And you just found the one who's next
Loud music, mad cheese, hella bitches
Liquor pouring got some museum gold on deck
No stress no sweat
Is he foreign, not a nigga
Just fresh just chill

The museum swole, no flex
Wanna listen esoterics if you looking forward
And you just found the one who's next
Loud music, mad cheese, hella bitches
Liquor pouring got some museum gold on deck
No stress no sweat
Is he foreign, not a nigga
Just fresh just chill

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