Palmolive (feat. Pusha T & Killer Mike)

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Lyrics

It's gon' speak for us
 It should speak for itself, you know what I mean?
 Kane season
 Fucking my pastor daughter in two Jesus pieces (Yeah)
 Dropping this blow on the basement floor, my Yeezys squeaking (Yeah)
 Repping the fam, I pledge allegiance, undefeated
 Fuck the forty acres and the mule, they gave us niggas the Eagle
 Popeyes, spoons and needles (Yeah)
 Sold a piece of crack to polices, Mario Van Peebles (Uh)
 Serving every prom queen and groupie with that vanilla smoothie (I was prom queen)
 Scary Gary, my nigga, my neighborhood something like Fallujah (Yeah)
 Vladimir banana clip, move with Russian collusion shooters (Uh)
 Fuck a track, ho, selling that pussy on computers (Yeah)
 Pimpin'll never die, Chad Butler in Heaven chuckin' deuces (Hold up)
 Trunk of deuce of hard white fish, then I made a wish (Yeah)
 A smoker scrubbin' down my kitchen, I'm never gon' wash a dish (Yes)
 It's Mr. Clean, glass, all Palmolive (Yeah)
 These niggas don't know how hard you ridin' for they ass 'til you park it (Skrrt)
 In 1998, I sold a Glock 19 chopper
 2018, I'm finna reclaim my fucking time and cop the Rollie flooded
 Maxine Waters, fuck your poison, keep your vaccines off us
 We got a reality star in the goddamn office, quite like the Reagan days (Yeah)
 Fernando said they used to move chickens in the Noriega days (Yeah)
 I'd disrespect his name, but he signed my face with a razor blade (True story, nigga)
 Baby Tony, top of the family like Johnny Sacrimoni (Yeah)
 Choppin' up this block white top with some Yohji Yamamotos (Uh)
 Whoever kill him first gon' get promoted
 Boy, I was getting my way with murder, before Denzel fucked Viola
 Gangsta Kane
 Young nigga, dope money, just have at it, nigga
 Make money, more money, mathematics, nigga
 But the popos, they coming for your money, nigga
 Play low, I mean low like no money, nigga
 Young nigga, dope money, just have at it, nigga
 Make money, more money, mathematics, nigga
 But the popos, they coming for your money, nigga
 Play low, I mean low like no money, nigga
 Look, real bars are the ill bars
 These scars are the only real proof they couldn't kill gods
 My coke hand is still sketchin' out my memoirs
 What I did to door panels on them Windstars
 Gem stars, left cuts in the dinner plates
 It's new stash spots, the AC don't just ventilate
 Take over your blocks, young niggas assimilate
 We all break bread like going Dutch on a dinner date
 The love of your life rap nigga wear fake watches
 The serial number don't match the gift boxes
 The bezel on her ballon bleu do the Tinashe
 The bitch told me two-tone Rollies was too blasé (Yugh)
 Way more chemical than political
 PTSD from what I weighed on the digital
 It was snowfall and Reagan gave me the visual
 Obama opened his doors knowing I was a criminal
 I took a risk, I took a brick
 Took a road trip to a Motel 6
 Get it wholesale and you know I won't tell shit
 Ride coattails, then he really want that lit
 Just another in the mix, nigga, I'm rich, nigga
 Tell me, is you Alpo or Mitch, nigga?
 Bet it all, roulette, all on my wrist, nigga
 Like Cleo setting it off, taking your bitch, nigga, ooh
 Young nigga, dope money, just have at it, nigga
 Make money, more money, mathematics, nigga
 But the popos, they coming for your money, nigga
 Play low, I mean low like no money, nigga
 Young nigga, dope money, just have at it, nigga
 Make money, more money, mathematics, nigga
 But the low low, like talking to baby mama, nigga
 Fake rap, tell that bitch this is that show money, nigga
 ♪
 I know a guy in my neighborhood
 He came home from work one day and caught his best friend in the hall with his wife
 They had all day to go to bed
 Pulled out a .45, shot both of 'em
 Next morning, his friend went down to the jail
 He said, "Fred, don't take it so hard"
 He said, "It could have been worse"
 He said, "What you mean, it could have been worse?"
 He said, "Man, two people dead. I might get the electric chair. You tell me it could have been worse?"
 He said, "Yeah, baby. It could have been worse."
 He said, "What you mean?"
 He said, "Hell, if you'd have came Thursday instead of Friday, you'd have gotten me too"
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
04:05
Tempo
168 BPM

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