Das Racist - The Trick lyrics
[Das Racist - The Trick lyrics]
We're in heaven
At least I think so, I really think so
There's nothing really to get mad at
It's nothing, really, no
It's really no problem!
Everything overstood, overseen
Big only those bold enough to
Dream big seem big
Stack big, act big, Mac sauce
Sticky icky, Jack Frost
Tricky dicky, blast off vicky-Vicky Vazquez
Ask this kid no questions
All kiss kiss, no weapon, Smith no Wesson
Wesleyan, no lessons learned confession burn
You make me wanna, you remind me of
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera
Don't get it? Don't sweat it, just let it go
It's better with no Geppetto, though
We're in heaven
At least I think so, I really think so
There's nothing really to get mad at
It's nothing, really, no
It's really no problem!
It's really Heems
And I'm rapping with my friends
People all happy cause it's happening again
Comin' to our shows and
Clapping again and again
Thank you, my friends
I'm ill, people really love me
I'm wack, yo, people think I'm ugly
I'm ill, $500 for the boots
I'm wack, I never tell the truth
$400 for the boots
We're in heaven
At least I think so, I really think so
There's nothing really to get mad at
It's nothing, really, no
It's really no problem!
At least I think so, I really think so
There's nothing really to get mad at
It's nothing, really, no
It's really no problem!
Everything overstood, overseen
Big only those bold enough to
Dream big seem big
Stack big, act big, Mac sauce
Sticky icky, Jack Frost
Tricky dicky, blast off vicky-Vicky Vazquez
Ask this kid no questions
All kiss kiss, no weapon, Smith no Wesson
Wesleyan, no lessons learned confession burn
You make me wanna, you remind me of
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera
Don't get it? Don't sweat it, just let it go
It's better with no Geppetto, though
We're in heaven
At least I think so, I really think so
There's nothing really to get mad at
It's nothing, really, no
It's really no problem!
It's really Heems
And I'm rapping with my friends
People all happy cause it's happening again
Comin' to our shows and
Clapping again and again
Thank you, my friends
I'm ill, people really love me
I'm wack, yo, people think I'm ugly
I'm ill, $500 for the boots
I'm wack, I never tell the truth
$400 for the boots
We're in heaven
At least I think so, I really think so
There's nothing really to get mad at
It's nothing, really, no
It's really no problem!