[Lyric] Puta (Lee Scott)

Big thanks to jimmy dyna

[Trellion]

Yo, you want skateboarding music?
I use your face to snap my skateboard in two with
My bad, oh what a cunt I am
I am
Off with his head
Amputate limbs
How‘re you gonna ollie with a prosthetic leg?
My bad, you don’t even skate
Wait, but I can
I’ll 360 kickflip that spliff out your mouth
No doubt, I’m living on the ill side of town
My sniper rifle got a wide angle
Blow off your Supreme 5 panel
How you like me now?
Not much, well it’s mutual
Whoopsie doo
Yo, I’m chilling with the down and outs
Fuck about, get dumb chills more roundabout
[Milkavelli]

I’m on an ox like my brother is
Sea town, catch me loc-ing like lover crip
Your mother wanna suck my dick
Cause a brother Hung like Brotha Lynch
Suck it bitch, I got 1.7 of the hubba bubba crop
It’s a 1-8-7 on this motherfuckin blunt
Shit, I’m funky like the doc
Doggin on your bitch
While you’re rocking Cyberdog, you bitch
Adderall Admiral, Trama-Tramadol
Yeah, I’m speedballin
Was gonna tour with my crew
But I’m detouring
My mother said I need reforming
I just say I need more green, the weed’s moreish
More bitches
Four bitches
Burning church on my shoulder and they’re all Christians
That’s how I’m living
Put some charas under the stamp for my man in prison

-”Puta!”
-”Don’t call me puta!”
[Lee Scott]

I’m in a portaloo
Givin' some rich bitch a talkin' to
With a quick spliff and a morning brew
Form a queue
You lack the testicular fortitude to thwart the crew
Someone said “wack” and I thought of you
I was gonna say I’m only messing, but I’m serious now, instead
I’m pawning this glowing gold circle around me head
I’m on that occult shit, like L. Ron Hubbard
I break you down and put you back together with your head on crooked
Dazed and confused, like Jake Holmes
Breaking the rules to stay stoned
Bunk on a late train home, code name Ste Kweng
I didn’t buy a ticket cause me saving for the weekend
Sounds in the headphones stuck in ‘96
In the gaps between tracks I’ll be chatting bout prior stints
But it’s too much on me mind, like the Kinks, then I think
This moolah could have been used for buying drink
Splashing fat on me cold skin frying mince
If I was a religious man I’d know who to blame
Hazardously dangling me Gucci scarf over the flame
No heat in the flat, but fuck giving in
I’m making the most of this, fluorescent bulb flickering
Raving, while I’m waiting for my food to cook
A recipe for disaster you couldn’t find in no stupid book
So don’t even look
[Sniff]

Yo
It’s reached fever pitch
We stand out like a paedo at a Bieber gig
Dream a bit
I sip Grey Goose and leave with it, we don’t pay
I turned Scrooge in my old age
You think I’m called Sniff ‘cause of cocaine?
Low flame cooking
No shame jocking up your girl
Cause coke gains pussy in this world, but
(Yo)
Slow it down, so
(Slow)
That’s how we goes down, you’s a
(Hoe)
You wanna do brown? Let me know
Real cold when I flow, I’m a pro
Quick pro quote, product like wow
Now on with the show
So, me and Trelly in the zone, you get took out
Hit the vault while the Lunarlings look out

-”Puta!”
-”Don’t call me puta, cabron!”