Quelle Chris - Supreme Codeine lyrics

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Quelle Chris - Supreme Codeine lyrics

[Verse 1] Well I'll be damned, guess who escaped outta the convent I must be a nun 'cause you ain't f**in' with what I spit These virgin raps'll murder cats You think you hot sh**? Well watch these turds collapse I flush number 2s and send 'em to the porcelain gods You end up on the news if you think of touchin' my squad You be wavin' spirit fingers to your family, so bring it on I don't mean art school when I say the heat is drawn n***as get their cheetah on, sprintin' If it's too hot then get out of Hell's kitchen I don't mean the restaurant, I'm in the upper echelon Of these wack rappers, they about to get their stretcher on I stick a fork in these potato heads, turn 'em to potato wedge I'm out to get the bu*ter with the toast if you makin' bread With that low fat, y'all n***as low fat Send you to the angels, Shwayze, where ghost at [Hook] Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine C-c-codeine, c-c-co Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine C-c-codeine, c-c-co [Verse 2] Rap n***as, need to be lookin' at the front door, you wack n***as n***as stylin' Wave's like audio files Waves like rivers, Jack Ripper, you hear the alleyway snickers Crooked laughter n***as lookin' like slave masters They asked us if we could pa** spliff We was like, "Of course, we have to" Rattle the rafters, tip over the boat They was like, "Don't look the chef in the eye" And pay the pastor, definite fly Cold case, closed casket, the game isn't alive Until witch doctors came in this b**h and zombified it If you ain't fresh with the lines Toodoloo, expose ma** n***as with rhymes like Scooby Doo [Hook] Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine C-c-codeine, c-c-co Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine C-c-codeine, c-c-co [Verse 3] Yeah hopscotch Kids swingin', listen close, you hear the blocks talk Kingpins be makin' deals and while the cops watch Just tryna take flight In this cold world we all for breakin' ice just like some rock salt Speakin' of the language, hot heads let the Glock talk Gunpowder play Stumpin' n***as, makin' wine out some sour grapes Minus the old barrels Steel belts Vivid enough to give you chills like some slushees Puttin' chrome where it's rusty Makin' bangers outta somethin' dusty Off the scuzzy, kitten like a hammy yeah these yappas can't touch me Full contact, yeah it's like I'm playin' rugby Trust me, I'm takin' trips 'cross the interstate Just to build with greats Fools fuel me, I can feel the hate Mothaf**as [Hook] Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine C-c-codeine, c-c-co Supreme codeine, c-c-codeine C-c-codeine, c-c-co