Текст песни Cash is King - Quadroon feat. Tapley Sound

Look, What you think i know, you don't
Uh, what got you onto holding hope
What, got you in this swollen soul, smoking bowls, like you doesn't even know

Why we truly fucking here, yeah
Why we truly fucking fear, death
Why I keep a doobie behind my right ear
And a spliff in the left

Vision's the test, hidden our quest
Beneath and below the breach of our cold, breath, what's up
Oh yeah

Back, to the programmed, american sam
Inherited when our heritage spins around a carless binge, fuck it

I been running through these studded hoops
Sipping hunnid proofs for a couple hunnids months or two
And nothing's new
So fuck, let's move

Unless we set like a tomb, in the ground of the hounds
Whom have howled at the moon and consumed all around, now
There's nothing left to do

Look, What you think I know, you don't
Uh, what got you onto holding hope
What, got you in this swollen soul, smoking bowls, like you doesn't even know

Why we truly fucking here, yeah
Why we truly fucking fear, death
Why I keep a doobie behind my right ear
And a spliff in the left

Look, What you think I know, you don't
Uh, what got you onto holding hope
What, got you in this swollen soul, smoking bowls, like you doesn't even know

Why we truly fucking here, yeah
Why we truly fucking fear, death
Why I keep a doobie behind my right ear
And a spliff in the left

Sitting in cinema, watching digital integers
Through my irregular, retina, turning competitors
Into silver, and officers into copper than won't crack

Ain't first you last, ain't gold you trash
Ain't pave away for anyone expect your ass
You're considered a quack, as far as I'm concerned
While I serve you raps

With bars that surf n turf, you begin to laugh n burst
Into tears, unsure whether this good or bad, glad or fear, that have you here

Is a savage who appears to have mastered lyrical magic with this hare,
Not in his hat, but up on his cap, riding the beat like a cavalier

Look, What you think I know, you don't
Uh, what got you onto holding hope
What, got you in this swollen soul, smoking bowls, like you doesn't even know

Why we truly fucking here, yeah
Why we truly fucking fear, death
Why I keep a doobie behind my right ear
And a spliff in the left