Westside Gunn, Tiona Deniece, Keisha Plum - Karl lyrics
[Westside Gunn, Tiona Deniece, Keisha Plum - Karl lyrics]
Few people have dominated an industry the
Way Karl Lagerfeld has dominated fashion
Griselda
His leadership of some of couture’s best
Known brands has established him as
One of the most successful and
Charismatic designers of modern times
Brr karl Lagerfeld
Tryna get money like that, nigga (Ayo)
Karl Lagerfeld
Tryna get money like that, nigga (Ayo)
Woke up, bad, ‘Chine Gun pissed again
Shoot-outs broad day
Fuck niggas missed again (Brr)
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar allahu Akbar
Ayo, you ever had to taste it
Just to make sure it’s there? (Ah)
Whole face numb, OT, 35 large
What’s the safe numbers?
Broke it down, got the AP flooded
Four in the baby, turned to nine
This shit made of tusslers
5-Series Bimmers (Skrt) , Pyrex beakers
The dogs might fall out if
They sniff the speakers (Sniff)
All you heard was shots
You niggas screamed to Jesus (Brr, brr, brr)
Jesus!, blew his brains out, lord
Nice to meet ya
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Blew his brains out, lord, nice to meet ya
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
If you see me, it’s a Gunn here (Ah)
The whole hundred shots, we go dumb here
(Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot
Doot, doot, doot
Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot
Doot) i’m from a city, ain’t no love here
But everybody know I love here
Used to steal out of Murphy’s
Up at Central Park
If we make a dime, rich lord
We ain’t getting court
What if I was to tell you
Now that Jesus really don’t exist?
The fuck-, yo
What the hell you talking about?
I just want you to calm down and talk to me
What is you talking about, man?
What the fuck you mean Jesus don’t exist?
Man, it’s, what’s wrong with you, man?
What’s wrong with you? What?
Some shit never gets old
You know how the story goes
Kick your door and pour a large amount (Ah)
Trash bags catch the shells from the pole
(Brr)
Brr (What the fuck you mean Jesus don’t exist?)
Brr, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
(What’s wrong with you? What the-?)
(That was a trick by the white man)
Brr, brr, brr, boom, boom, boom
Some shit never gets old
You know how the story goes
Kick your door and pour a large amount (Ah)
Trash bags catch the shells from the pole
(Brr)
Brr, brr, brr
(What the fuck man? Didn’t I tell
You there’s something wrong with you, man?)
Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
Doot doot doot doot doot
(’Cause Jesus always exist)
Trash bags catch the shells from the pole
(How the- how the hell you think
All these people get like that?)
Brr, ooh yeah (You think Jesus had something
To do with that?)
Trash bags catch the shells from the pole
Ooh yeah (Christ, he made man, he made baby)
Listen to this west side story
Roots go back to Langston Hughes and
Billie Holi days of glory
Starter jackets with gold around
The neck all crazy
Went from ‘90s Wu Tang to Dipset
Purple Hazing money hungry villains on those
Hot summer blocks our heart melted
Mixing with the blood on the pavement
Shorty was turning tricks in
Her grandmomma basement ten years later
He did marble floors in her basement
Dapper Dan, YSL, matching 38s in the closet
Whatever she could think of, he bought it
Haikus hidden within the palms of man
Buffalo’s story was always part
Of God’s master plan