94 Logo Blur - Alexander Spit, Chuck Inglish

This that spit, that old fashioned flow

Pocket full of dirty C notes like old Cassio

I’m on patio so pick the rings to match the glow

Grabbing on that ravioli slow, winning back a jones

They see through the kitchen to the alley where that Jeeps park

Probably we alone ‘cause getting social with them street smarts

I show these beautiful arts to his body art

These other bitches be lurking till they got your heart

Learned a long time ago to never trust a sharing stone

Spot her in a Vegas casino then leave her there alone

I got the sirens screaming at me when I’m baritone

Whiling in that motherfucking…

A real rapper’s pulse match the metronome

I’m a bad boy but never combed my prop with a Diddy comb

It’s all praise to the kids to get their city known

Somebody get in this verse, I bet y’all feeling dome

I’m looking at these rap cats like nice

They looking like they fitted to work only fall back

And all the sudden it’s fashion, we wearing all black

What, no comma there unless you rocking for Johnny Cash

I make music with that ambiance and zombie laps

I’m Tarantino with my ladies feed all on the dash

I tell ‘em cue the strengths, I tell ‘em cue the brass

Our solo act, the curtains drop, homie, do the math

Got there with the… wardrobe 94 logo blur

Get up

Got there with the… wardrobe 94 logo blur

Get up

Got there with the… wardrobe 94 logo blur

Get up

Got there with the… wardrobe 94 logo blur

Get up

The art pitching flame, we done switched the lanes

Only property… like it’s a game

But it’s the stage, wrote the books, no pay

And in the new crib burn sage

As I stepped on the scene my whole mind stay changed

Crème brulee flambé in the amphibious way

She moves in mysterious ways… just get in the way

Standing on the beach, a wave capping my fate

I don’t use recipes ‘cause I know how it’s made

Today I don’t stunt on y’all, real talk, that’s the day I lost

I can’t afford that cost, my accountant called, I can’t afford that, dog