Marlon Craft - World Champ lyrics
Marlon Craft [Marlon Sean Cirker] Manhattan, New York, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Marlon Craft - World Champ lyrics]
Yeah
Put the cucumber in the vodka
It's a cruel summer, it been hot, bruh
Mom claim Italian, pops a city Jew
They was both more pasta than latkes
Pops always said, "Watch your posture"
He ain't know my shoulders held lots up
Used to hold me in the mirror, say I
Was champ of the world, shit wasn't gossip
No
Accurate forecast
Lookin' forward, don't need more past
Puttin' rappers in the compost 'cause
Can't afford any more trash
I don't got anymore passes
Feel compassion slippin' 'way
All this savageness in a cage
Whole culture is MMA
Watch the lightning in the clouds
Everything pretty 'til it hit's Earth
Our construction is destruction
Tell me really what's the shit worth?
What's thе purpose for a wordsmith if
The doors they supposеd to open
'Bout to be permanently closed in?
Is it really all just for coping?
Put the cucumber in the vodka
It's a cruel summer, it been hot, bruh
Mom claim Italian, pops a city Jew
They was both more pasta than latkes
Pops always said, "Watch your posture"
He ain't know my shoulders held lots up
Used to hold me in the mirror, say
I was champ of the world, shit wasn't gossip
On my own, I don't got a roster
Dread on my mind like a Rasta
Stressed all the time, pour the sauce up
Young redundant, never puntin'
Fourth and long, always find a way
I be strong my own kind of way
I be strong my own kind of way
Shit, that's all I been tryna say
If you got a problem with me
I don't really gotta care no more
Ooh, I'm gon' walk in my peace
I don't gotta interfere no more who want it?
Bitch, I ain't no newcomer
Cool as the cucumber in the vodka, baby
It's a new summer i don't got a new number
Bitch, I got the same doggone line
Might be hard to find though
Somewhere lost in my mind
Still gon' be the champ though
Still gon' be the champ
Still gon' be the champ though
Still gon' be the champ
Still gon' be the champ though
Still gon' be the champ
Even if it ain't a world left, baby
I'll be damned uh
Put the cucumber in the vodka
It's a cruel summer, it been hot, bruh
Mom claim Italian, pops a city Jew
They was both more pasta than latkes
Pops always said, "Watch your posture"
He ain't know my shoulders held lots up
Used to hold me in the mirror, say I
Was champ of the world, shit wasn't gossip
No
Accurate forecast
Lookin' forward, don't need more past
Puttin' rappers in the compost 'cause
Can't afford any more trash
I don't got anymore passes
Feel compassion slippin' 'way
All this savageness in a cage
Whole culture is MMA
Watch the lightning in the clouds
Everything pretty 'til it hit's Earth
Our construction is destruction
Tell me really what's the shit worth?
What's thе purpose for a wordsmith if
The doors they supposеd to open
'Bout to be permanently closed in?
Is it really all just for coping?
Put the cucumber in the vodka
It's a cruel summer, it been hot, bruh
Mom claim Italian, pops a city Jew
They was both more pasta than latkes
Pops always said, "Watch your posture"
He ain't know my shoulders held lots up
Used to hold me in the mirror, say
I was champ of the world, shit wasn't gossip
On my own, I don't got a roster
Dread on my mind like a Rasta
Stressed all the time, pour the sauce up
Young redundant, never puntin'
Fourth and long, always find a way
I be strong my own kind of way
I be strong my own kind of way
Shit, that's all I been tryna say
If you got a problem with me
I don't really gotta care no more
Ooh, I'm gon' walk in my peace
I don't gotta interfere no more who want it?
Bitch, I ain't no newcomer
Cool as the cucumber in the vodka, baby
It's a new summer i don't got a new number
Bitch, I got the same doggone line
Might be hard to find though
Somewhere lost in my mind
Still gon' be the champ though
Still gon' be the champ
Still gon' be the champ though
Still gon' be the champ
Still gon' be the champ though
Still gon' be the champ
Even if it ain't a world left, baby
I'll be damned uh