Run The Jewels, Baco Exu do Blues - ​fuera de vista (TROOKO’s Versión) lyrics

Ayy ayy
(What you gonna do? What you gonna do?)

(R-R-Run-run) Here come the
Menaces to sobriety, like what? (What?)
Super thuggers thumpin' on the cut (Run-run)
(Run-run) My motherfuckin' Uzi weighs a ton
Hit the drum 'til you
Hear it go "brrum-pum-pum-pum"
(Run-run) Piety just really isn't us
What a rush
See you cuttin' up a pie, that's my lunch
(Run-run)
Run your motherfuckin' pockets when I come
It's a honor to be robbed
By Denise's only son
Yeah, ever ready baby boy of Bettie
Movin' extra heavy
Whippin' Chevys, gotta get it
Eat spaghetti with the mobsters
Vegan bitches


Feed 'em dick 'cause they don't
Eat no steak and lobster
Sosa was my hero, homie
Tony's just a fuckin' hossa (Out of sight)
Out of mind, out of touch, out of time
Man, I'll smoke a bogie backwards
With a thumb up like, "It's fine"
(Run)
Save yourself, I say, selflessly divine
Leave me here to drown in glory
You're too good to cross that line (Run-run)
Tragically struck down in my prime
By the speed at which the bags are dropping
Shoulda watched the sky
You don't wanna live this life
It's really not sublime
I'm only doing what I want while
Hockin' loogies at the swine
Out of sight (Ayy)
R T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
I don't give a fuck, out-out-out-out of sight
(Ayy)
R T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
What you gonna do? What you gonna do?

We the motivating, devastating, captivating
Ghost and Rae relating product
Of the fuckin' '80s
Coke dealin' babies, never regulating
Bag accumulating
It would not be overstating to
Say they are underrating
The pride of Brooklyn and the Grady, baby
We don't need no compliments or confidence
Our attitude and latitude is "fuck you
Pay me"
Next summer, leather bombers, dookie ropes
And smokin' indica
Ain't a team as mean and clean
As J Meline and Michael Render, bruh
TV got no temperature, even if it did
Bitch, we cool as penguin pussy
On the polar cap peninsula
Colder than your baby mama heart (Uh)
When she find out you been
Fuckin' with that other
Broad and you ain't got that rent for her

I know you just about McFuckin' had it
Our shit is just magic
Go figure the runts of the
Litter did it without scammin'
Was fryin' in the fat of the land
Now your man is mashin'
We back of the class and laughin'
You raisin' a hand and tattlin'
Mike shitted in your locker
Then left a note with a winky face
Meet us at three o'clock if
You wanna do something tragic
We'll shrinky-dinky all of that yappin'
It's automated
The gears of the rapper shredder want
Action and it'll have it

Ah, eu atravesso cidades sem
Precisar de carona
Eu nasci pra usar Puma, 'cês são tudo cafona
Esses negos me imitam tipo clones da sombra
Devo ser terrorista porque todos são bomba
Uma mamacita latina comigo na autoestrada
Parados na fronteira com droga importada
Ela cospe tanto que parece minha arma
Eu tentando dar fuga, ela baba e atrapalha
Foda-se, seu polícia, 'cê tá meio equivocado
Eu não sou mexicano, eu sou baiano, caralho
Um preto perigoso, gostoso e bronzeado
Kanye West da Bahia, corpo e carro blindado

Out-out-out of sight (Ayy)
R T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
I don't give a fuck, out-out-out-out of sight
(Ayy)
R T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
What you gonna do? What you gonna do? (Ayy)
R T-J, what you say? What you say? (Ayy)
Sight (Ayy, Ayy) Sight
(Ayy, Ayy)
What you gonna gonna gonna What you gonna do?
Sight (Ayy, Ayy)
Sight (Ayy, Ayy) What you gonna gonna gonna
What you gonna do?