Sputnick

Motherfucker
It’s that shit you can’t see on TV bitch
You know its crazy out here, crazy out here
Wassup my dogs man, where you at?
In my chat, run up to your spot like a fuckin narc'
This that shit to get high to, for you bitch ass
Yeah, like Raekwon I bring the ruckus
Hardcore higher than the sputnik, hardcore lady fans love it
Yall think its fashion to bang colors, till real G’s run up on you
cause your brain malfunction
My Pakistani at the bodega keep me healthy
All the chopped cheese on the wheatbread, never meal prep
Extort feds with the street cred, till my warrants get dropped and my records
get a rset
Tears dry, no reply to Adom aftr I bang this vine out
Yo shoutout to Amy Winehouse
Fifth grade Bill Nye episodes, spark the plug and my boy that experiment with a
Pyrex
Your trash rhymes got me sidekicked
Won’t stand the test of time I know thats hard for you to digest
Back when you were flippin' sidekicks, I was flippin' percocets holding my nuts
with a tight grip
Long Island mini mansion with ADT cameras with range from Tacoma to Atlanta,
the opera need a phantom
Ninja-black bands with my leg out the window like Juelz Santana
Rag-to-riches enterprisin', Moschino silk sheets tailor-fitted for the guy
Analyze energy, they want me on opposite side of those conniving
Pull the curtains in Continentals
(Peace)