Текст песни Stones - iurai

We get the bread, it's spicy like we copped Italian
Hit the subway for the greens, not talkin scallions
Runnin up mustangs on my street they all got stallions
I'm tryin hard to race em up get that medallion, yuh
They throwin rocks, came from the sticks I'm talkin literally
Grew up near bushes, in a fence where there was empty streets
No where to go, those sandy roads, had rain to help me sleep
Hit 95 up on my whip they callin me McQueen

I'm feelin stoned, not really tho, I'm in my zone
Can't touch this flow, tryna break bones, don't hurt my soul
Guess my skins too resistant
Judge aint your role, you get imposed
Aint bein cold, but you just froze
Sometimes just feel like what they do to me is nonexistent

Ingenuine it's fake, they wanna win in one take
Gotta be persistent, sometimes explicit in order to get the cake
It aint your birthday yet keep tryin for another day
Don't worry tho, you'll get it, remember be careless and careful
Don't get so stressed you keep yourself up too late like a werewolf
And just be cautious don't get nauseous doin shit that's peril
You can get feral, they produce memories so you don't get sterile
I load the barrel, callin shotgun listen to my carols
(I'm feelin stoned, not really tho, I'm in my zone
Can't touch this flow, tryna break bones, don't hurt my soul
Guess my skins too resistant)
Keepin a lot in my bag, got bands, got bags
Rackin weights, got racks, custom merchandise
Like I'm changin price tags now the public be callin me Aunt Maggs
These words my textbook, I be teachin elementary
The way my moves sly as a fox, 21st century dawg
No full-time need a salary, keepin watch but they can't tower me
Keep a rolex in my favourites, just kiddin it aint that time for me
Stone up your ass got an attitude, keepin it salty like Lowry's
Despite the pebbles I be a rebel so I keep my atmosphere a positive mood
I got some stones in my arsenal, Jesus ball in his prime in an article
My music not shallow like barnacles, Barnacle Boy turn my haters to particles
I'm sorry I'm a fan of the Earth but my exhaust is carbonyl
Rep purple, they callin me racist, that's my hue you can't take it
I wash my shoes, but don't tie up the laces, makin for comfort
Not trippin my taste is so good, so sweet
I'm drippin Spaz on the beat, I can't brag I'm elite but I spent bags on my feet
Now I'm workin round' 50 and I, I still gotta eat
Girls relax on the street I'm poppin off in 23 yuh
(23, yuh, throwin' stones)