Song: Sep. 19 2011
Year: 2012
Viewed: 161 - Published at: 8 years ago

Not even trying here.
Fuck any kind of pedigree we had going.
Dialing this one in.
Paint by numbers with this shit.
Lookbook A B C’s.
O is for Orange.
Saw the O face bros making OJ last season.
So we added a banana and a green apple.
Oh shit blogger.
Sarted on.
Our BDs just jumped up a price point.
Cause we mad fruity.
C is for carpet.
Racking our brains.
And our inspiration folders.
Who’s floor game is on point?
Shit son, you member when we smoked that droll up with Coggs?
Oh fuck man.
He rolled his dank with Penguin classic papes.
Kush wrapped in Cannery Row.
Told classic tales of sit downs with with OGs.
Wondering how much more he could have learned.
If he wasn’t on The Lean when they were dropping knowledge like that.
But shit son.
His crib’s on that Persian tip.
Let’s drop down some carpet.
Boom.
Buyers gonna blow us up so hard bro.
S is for stacks.
Stacks on stacks on stacks.
Mad literature, son.
Cause we deep.
Deep inside that e-tail fallopian.
No hetero.
L is for Ladder
Vintage.
Gritty.
Have you dudes even heard of Brim City?
Didn’t think so.
Cause we didn’t find this shit in some back alley.
H is for hammer.
Crush-.
Smash-.
Kill-.
-ing everything.
On behalf of Justice.
I let the steel speak.
Lookbook down.
Bricks.
About a ton.
Landed.
We fucking merked this shit so hard.
I think the model just threw up in his mouth a little.
Weird.
99 used to say you miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.
Blindfolded wrist shots from center ice.
Raining into the stands.

( Fuck Yea Menswear )
www.ChordsAZ.com

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