Z.a.K. - Gitlaud! lyrics

Published

0 647 0

Z.a.K. - Gitlaud! lyrics

Mike: Collapsed on the mattress, lax like flacid genitals Gla** pipe packed with ma**ive scraps of medical Takin' about seven pulls, then blastin' the ash out While crankin'in' out decibels and smashin' your gla** house About to pa** out with the subwoofers peakin' Because you f**ing get tired when you make bangers all weekend But the kick sounds off, somebody bring the beat back! Zak: Hey, I'm pounding on your door! Mike: sh**, what's happenin', Zak? Zak: Yo, I hear the cops coming - try to drown the sirens out Don't cease - release beasts. Let the tigers and lions out Oh my! Bear in mind, we don't need to carry 9's, loaded up the larynx - flow with double-barrelled rhymes f** fighting fair. Turn and shoot at four paces And I rap like three bears eating at porridge places So before I go nursery on these rhymes, lemme shed light Some too hot, some too cool, but me? I'm just right From the depths of Hell to the pearly gates of Heaven Everything will shake when we play at these decibel levels So this town permeates with sick sounds every time we... CHORUS Zak: Spit hot as bare feet on asphalt steppin' Named Zak, spelled like a Frenchman's a**ault weapon Gozilla on this track, you'll see this beast coming Hell, the whole East Coast can hear this beat thumping Stand and rap on the train, you know I smash it the same I got that ice in my veins as cold as baths in Ukraine Vile spittin', dial digits, homie sharpen your teeth Done singing, phone's ringing, yo pick up, East! Mike: Answer the cell, but don't expect to hear the caller, Zak. Volume's only risin', might as well tell 'em to holler back No release, all attack on the envelope Hear the tremelo from the LFO on that telephone? You never know, our sh** blares like witch "Would you f**in' kids keep it down?" Yeah right, b**h We should be sellin' this EP with lifetime window replacements on account of what happens when the ba** hits Whether you're gettin' popular with the in crowd Or nerdin' it up in cla**, doin' without Take a hit of this, pal, manufacture a thick cloud, and... CHORUS