John Sparkz - Randy The Musical lyrics

[Verse 1] You can find us in the garden like Spike on any night Encrusted in some ice that look bluish in the light Spanish on the mistress, Jewish on the wife Shootin' like a Piston, aim for proper distance Live from London, number crunchin' Drivin' gloves with some Asian b**hes rubbin' me with sponges Expensive lunches, wages off of hunches I bet the dogs and if I win it then the paper yours Pack your bag, wash your p**y, then leave Meet me at the airport, the plane is leaving at 3 She said alright, blew smoke through my nose It's the talented younger stallion, no Pinocchio nose [Verse 2] Please stop your sh**'s all hype dude Meanwhile the wrist all spiteful Just be real, that sh**'s not like you Man you know these things go through a cycle Straight from Queens rock fatigue all weather Fila three-quarter cream feet all leather Never sing the blues, man my team mo' better We blow cheddar, au four feta City lights shine bright on my complexion Self-reflection, red hands flashing at the intersection Life is green-lit, one star no script Supporting actors, fresh peaches no pit I love my people, considered as my brothers Came from different mothers, came up in the same struggle Some estranged, some deep up in the game still Money separate, believe you know the fame will [Verse 3] Ayo macerate the fruit, tap it over angel's food Yeah we gettin' loot, Timberland the boot Kush is by prescription, prolific in the kitchen People on my dick because I'm vicious with the diction House shoes and some khakis on the west Hit the beach up, twist the Cheech up, let the beat thump Never f**in' with the crab that's pre-lumped Makin' b**hes sign a pre-nup Chocolate with the mean rump Serve some cream stuff, sh** to make the fiends jump Crispy greenery, tropical the scenery Believe you me, this sh** ain't always what it seem to be I'm feastin' dolo down in Eataly I'm in the street like a hooker's feet I'm known to sit on leather I'm smokin' hash and marijuana cause it go together Old school PAL at the colder center Three AM we on the corner rockin' Polo sweater [Outro] Thank you It might be the illest track I ever wrote Who left it? You? Word yo I'm sippin' something, I gotta sip before I rap I gotta ooo ooo ooo Bing bing bing bing bing Exactly Bing bing bing bing bing bing bing bing bing It's rap