Super Kick Party

Westside Gunn

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    Say, say, as soon as we're born, we are dying
    Conductor, conductor, we have a problem (grr)
    Ayo (grr), ayo

    Who that bitch right there with the fatty?
    How you in the hood with your jewels and no ratch-y? (ah)
    Anybody say that they ill, I surpass thee
    We run the streets and jail, we some athletes
    F6 elephant drum out the backseat (brr)
    Actually, make it a headshot, it's that deep (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
    Pateks over the wheel, hobo bags draggin' through maxfield
    You lack still, the Glock or the mac wheel? (doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)
    Fur on the marni slippers, makin' a crack deal
    Judge wanna send me up the hill like Jack, jill (ah)
    To catch your life truly up
    We dance with pants, wipe bricks off with Louis scarfs
    Mossberg in the old nugget, lookin' like movie stars
    My starter lineup got five shooting guards
    You fuck niggas is moulinyans (brr) (ahahaha)
    Pipe down, pikers

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    Pucci overalls look like scars on a lifer (ah)
    Breakdancin' in the mess hall, put the knives up (ah)
    Where co kennedy at? I might wife her
    Hold hands on the rec yard, I'll be home soon
    Came through, stretch 911 off the showroom (skrrt)
    Soundin' like chucky up in sachs, I got dope moves
    Wipin' bricks off the same stove we cook soul food (woo)
    Rockin' all maison, gracious, beloved by the freebasers basin' (ah)
    You back in the hood, how your name in them statements? (ah)
    Dippidy-doo-dah, your brains on the pavement (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
    Nine in the shoebox, the ronnie fieg asics (woo)
    Bitches sendin' tongue emojis, wanna taste it (woo)
    My double r got tom ford drapes (woo)
    Your man used to rock figaro chain and movado (uh-huh)
    Now it's hublots, suntans from cabo
    Focus on new goals, squares in the tahoe
    We make it these three thousand miles, we be ralo
    Redbone bitch pussy fat, look like latto (ah, woo)
    Scores in a mcqueen button-up, I look like pablo (ah)
    West lane, mike amiri, thirty-four flackos
    I don't know who did the shit so I shot both (boom, boom, boom)

    (Conductor, we have a problem)
    (Damn, conductor, where'd you find this?)

    Song details

    Composition: Westside Gunn and Conductor Williams

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