Verbal Intercourse... Pusha T Palmolive

June 28, 2019

"Look, real bars are the ill bars
These scars are the only real proof they couldn't kill Gods
My coke hand is still sketching out my memoirs
What I did to door panels on them Windstars
Gem stars left cuts in the dinner plates
There's new stash spots, the AC don't just ventilate
Take over your blocks, young niggas assimilate
We all break bread, like goin' dutch on a dinner date
The love of your life, rap nigga with 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 blahzay (Yugh!)
Way more chemical than political
PTSD from what I weighed on the digital
It was snowfall and Regan 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 coat tails, 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, settin' it off, takin' yo' bitch, nigga, ooh!"




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