Blast
Who can match the match of your team, stooped down and catch the ball like a bat catches to the AP down lows. We coming for their masters. Taught em more metaphors that's better than yours to porch monkeys who were originally corporate flunky's who work in the modern field for evil money. The cotton pickers balance content on their heads, and get bigger. Pull up on the white horse, drink tea, every house got a house wicker. Make him wash the donkey's and wipe em down with water. Increase the effort to go forward. Society support's guerilla's through evolution who walk awkward. Bring back the wrong orders. Straw hat tobacco puller's who walk like caterpillars. Marcus Garvy Jr's add their two cents and write album fillers. Fill communities up with impurities. Bananas from my ginger bread man please come talk to me. Compel against negative speaches with no velocity. It's like gypsy tarot card reader's getting off telling false prophecies. Satan putting in more sparking plugs. To deceive you all let him increase his speed. Sprinkle salty one with holy water, some sound like mourners.
Blast
Observe you watching TV on a lazy boy. Fools texting back and forth, I guess that's what they do seven day's a week. Without a place to lay down and vocals to speak. A lot of people lollygagging at home cooking pig's feet. Im an artist who writes so distinct. Many want to mingle and be pop like Pink. Take rapper's and feed em supplies, the hungry with hot link's. Yall gonna mess around and winter gonna come around and catch me in a mink. With a bad broad and NBA seats, pay you bill for real cheese. Why would your thong tease? I can see your baby girl flossing with fake titties. Home court advantage, I keep a basketball in every city. The hair around my private trimmed pretty. Sean Elliot sipping Don P with Missy. A lot of people not doing business don't miss me. They chasing the star that don't care about em. With dark windows rolled up in the Bentley. They treat em like dog's, Spud Mackenzie. I've been looking down from high places. Don't be bougie with a face lift. Do not be bougie with a face lift.
Blast
Kool Keith - Blast Lyrics
Kool Keith - Blast Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
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Blast
Who can match the match of your team, stooped down and catch the ball like a bat catches to the AP down lows. We coming for their masters. Taught em more metaphors that's better than yours to porch monkeys who were originally corporate flunky's who work in the modern field for evil money. The cotton pickers balance content on their heads, and get bigger. Pull up on the white horse, drink tea, every house got a house wicker. Make him wash the donkey's and wipe em down with water. Increase the effort to go forward. Society support's guerilla's through evolution who walk awkward. Bring back the wrong orders. Straw hat tobacco puller's who walk like caterpillars. Marcus Garvy Jr's add their two cents and write album fillers. Fill communities up with impurities. Bananas from my ginger bread man please come talk to me. Compel against negative speaches with no velocity. It's like gypsy tarot card reader's getting off telling false prophecies. Satan putting in more sparking plugs. To deceive you all let him increase his speed. Sprinkle salty one with holy water, some sound like mourners.
Blast
Observe you watching TV on a lazy boy. Fools texting back and forth, I guess that's what they do seven day's a week. Without a place to lay down and vocals to speak. A lot of people lollygagging at home cooking pig's feet. Im an artist who writes so distinct. Many want to mingle and be pop like Pink. Take rapper's and feed em supplies, the hungry with hot link's. Yall gonna mess around and winter gonna come around and catch me in a mink. With a bad broad and NBA seats, pay you bill for real cheese. Why would your thong tease? I can see your baby girl flossing with fake titties. Home court advantage, I keep a basketball in every city. The hair around my private trimmed pretty. Sean Elliot sipping Don P with Missy. A lot of people not doing business don't miss me. They chasing the star that don't care about em. With dark windows rolled up in the Bentley. They treat em like dog's, Spud Mackenzie. I've been looking down from high places. Don't be bougie with a face lift. Do not be bougie with a face lift.
Blast
Who can match the match of your team, stooped down and catch the ball like a bat catches to the AP down lows. We coming for their masters. Taught em more metaphors that's better than yours to porch monkeys who were originally corporate flunky's who work in the modern field for evil money. The cotton pickers balance content on their heads, and get bigger. Pull up on the white horse, drink tea, every house got a house wicker. Make him wash the donkey's and wipe em down with water. Increase the effort to go forward. Society support's guerilla's through evolution who walk awkward. Bring back the wrong orders. Straw hat tobacco puller's who walk like caterpillars. Marcus Garvy Jr's add their two cents and write album fillers. Fill communities up with impurities. Bananas from my ginger bread man please come talk to me. Compel against negative speaches with no velocity. It's like gypsy tarot card reader's getting off telling false prophecies. Satan putting in more sparking plugs. To deceive you all let him increase his speed. Sprinkle salty one with holy water, some sound like mourners.
Blast
Observe you watching TV on a lazy boy. Fools texting back and forth, I guess that's what they do seven day's a week. Without a place to lay down and vocals to speak. A lot of people lollygagging at home cooking pig's feet. Im an artist who writes so distinct. Many want to mingle and be pop like Pink. Take rapper's and feed em supplies, the hungry with hot link's. Yall gonna mess around and winter gonna come around and catch me in a mink. With a bad broad and NBA seats, pay you bill for real cheese. Why would your thong tease? I can see your baby girl flossing with fake titties. Home court advantage, I keep a basketball in every city. The hair around my private trimmed pretty. Sean Elliot sipping Don P with Missy. A lot of people not doing business don't miss me. They chasing the star that don't care about em. With dark windows rolled up in the Bentley. They treat em like dog's, Spud Mackenzie. I've been looking down from high places. Don't be bougie with a face lift. Do not be bougie with a face lift.
Blast
Writer: Junkadelic, Kool Keith
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC