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Tytuł: Special Delivery

  • Wykonawca: G-dep
  • Wy¶wietleń: 555
[Verse 1]
  Yo, this for my niggas, though, special delivery
  Spit like this, get my wrists all glittery
  Get cake, snakes get slithery
  Lean in, show y'all the meaning of chivalry
  Rap ruler, you could ask Buddha
  Right jab like Zab Zuda
  Every member on my team is the shooter
  Tight like a womb, no room for intruders
  Spark Buddha, twistin' the Philly
  And Good Humor, don't be silly
  It's gravy baby, I got it all smothered
  Like makeup, I got it all covered
  Want a jewel, don't be cruel
  It's authentic, don't be fooled
  By these phony accusations
  Backlash and slanders
  Front, and they put pits in ya
  Stunts and propaganda
  Keep it private, 'cause I'm the commander
  In chief, I never stop like beef
  Gimme a break, I might shake the building place
  Say vacate all women and children
  I spit it out
  
  [Chorus (repeat 2x)]
  
  Special delivery
  I want that
  Special delivery
  I need
  Special delivery
  Can I have that
  Special delivery
  Come give it to me
  
  [Verse 2]
  If you ain't ready, I'ma bust through ya curtain
  Encore, you're not sure, I'm certain
  Wait, make sure the mic workin'
  Make cake, sorta like Earth Wind
  And Fire, the rap vampire
  Retire in the morn'
  Warm like campfires
  Matter of fact, I'm blazin'
  Raisin' the roof up
  Slide off with ya rooster
  Took her to the stu and seduced her
  Let her do a skit, then she hit my producer (Oh)
  Not whatcha used to, I'm looser
  Ya need to stop fuckin' with them losers, now who's up
  The mystic ruler, grand imperial
  Filthy, but milky like cereal
  Bang this in ya stereo
  MC's is dead and I'ma get head up at they burial
  And that's disrespectful
  I'm strong like Exo mixed with X, yo
  And that's the high capability
  And yes, I possess that ability
  I spit it out
  
  [Chorus (repeat 2x)]
  
  [Verse 3]
  Yeah, ayo, Dep so bright, light looking halogen
  Spit that bar, car low mileagin'
  Let's go, metropolitan
  Area, cuz I'm hearin' ya hollerin'
  The earthquaker, Harlem bread maker
  Gimme two hands, few grams and the shaker
  Hit the block, watch the kids bake up
  Your girl keep coming around
  Then I'ma take her to Jamaica
  And I give her a reason to get curious
  But ya pain, it ain't that serious
  MC's ran with this and that
  But change your name to Saran 'cause it's a Wrap
  Your rap is like a sedative
  You sleepy, defeat me, negative
  So it's over and I guess you gotta live with it
  And you can tell by the records that's distributed
  I spit it out
  
  [Chorus (repeat 4x to fade)]