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Coke with Ice
Apollo Brown; Crimeapple
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
Bilingual
Okay, whoa
Cats back home hating saying shit to be saying shit (saying shit)
Paperless, I'm in Miami in the mall like an alien
With illegal aliens Brazilians Panamanians
You don't got a dime bitch in yo' radius, gotta question yo' waviness
Take up a new hobby, nah, you probably wasn't made for this (no)
Crucify you on the vinyl, catch a body on the laser disc
Fly yo' head on the cassette, my rep solid, no holes in mine
If the shows isn't popping, the stove is fine if I'm so inclined
Regardless, I'm doing overtime, barely sleep to get a stack
Moving around the map so much, I wake up forgetting where I'm at
Drop a slab, it's ingles sin barreras mixed with pantera
Went from Peter Pan to panemera pocket on Panera
He the one you should beware of in the booth with a pair of
Parakeets any parody, we should introduce you to cherubs
To the crew, you like food if you in yo' ear buds (uh-huh)
Talking 'bout you shooting a fair one (yeah, a'ight)
My shit could burn through the plastic twice
Unmatched, why trap it for the asking price? (Why?)
Did damage, God could ban us from the afterlife
Package like you could die faster if you asking right (yup)
So real, we oughta tax it twice
No frills, yo' shit lacking, you took bad advice (yup)
Top of the hill, looking down like I mastered life
Got it cracking like coke in a glass with ice (what)
It's all love, I been eating, came from government cheese
I do nothing egregious, I keep on flooding the pieces
They keep typing shit salty, I stay paid on a plane
You could Cash App me now, I hit ya tape with the flames
Or you could hit up Christine, then I could get you some streams
I might know someone who know someone who could get you key
I paid most of my dues, and all them shit wasn't cheap
Nah, don't talk to me rude, I'll make yo' fitted miskeen
Mistoleen and Mr. Clean on the bracelets, I can't shake it off
Paper long, the plate he lacing you with, that's Filet Mignon
I played the swamp, came out floral in full bloom
Had to sweat over the stove at first holding a wooden spoon
I bon appรฉtit on 'em, Jerry Hellers want a piece of him
Unbelievable, where was you when no one believed in this?
The right ingredients, y'all shit modified with corn syrup
Turned my life to Heaven on earth, although I'm still Lord fearing (what)
My shit could burn through the plastic twice
Unmatched, why trap it for the asking price? (Why?)
Did damage, God could ban us from the afterlife
Package like you could die faster if you asking right (yup)
So real, we oughta tax it twice
No frills, yo' shit lacking, you took bad advice (yup)
Top of the hill, looking down like I mastered life
Got it cracking like coke in a glass with ice (what)
When you in a Lamba, you just know
You don't gotta question it
I try to them from Jump
Could you imagine?
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