Shad & Skratch Bastid — Homie feat. Cadence Weapon

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Текст Shad & Skratch Bastid — Homie feat. Cadence Weapon

If your city isn’t on the map — gotta make tracks Like leave, and get love to take back

Those who can do.

Those who can’t gotta face facts

But I don’t talk about haters, cause they hate that

Funny — I’m that dude based mostly out of suitcase

Arguing with airports about toothpaste

I’m not quoting the

Quran with a vest on

And who the hell’s ever made a bomb out of

Crest Armed to the teeth

West Jet said.

Let the head rest recline on them

So I’m cooling out, flying home through some cyclones

Over time zones, sky shining like a rhinestone

Real diamond mind full of fine poems

Ya’ll gotta dig when we dig, and then grind

These refined coals

Call ’em gems

Call our friends when

I land Back in Van.

like «Dave! What’s your plan man?»

Mad international,

Shad in the passenger

Seat, on the beat, it’s a blast like

Plaxico

Classical, panoramic scope, trans-Atlantic

You could grab a boat, but I take a plane, take pains

With everything I wrote, make sure it’s sounding dope,

Instagram photos

Showing shows to the folks at home, and the span grows

Make rap prose, rent a van, go and pack clothes

Play some rap shows, get some cash, then go back home

From British to the district I spit a sentence

Be there in an instant for an instance so witness

Here for a good time, not a long time

With some good songs and it all rhymes, alright

Pent up in the confines of a ride, just to bust out

And share the confines of my mind

Yeah, Dirt City, real city I rep

Hit me up if you need a sublet, oh yes

Couple of MacBook bros making hot songs

Over Hotmail.

— T dot com Back to the future.

Kid with the faster computer brain

Marty McShad is the username

Skratch, we can do your thing.

Hang like a dookie chain

Master the craft, and laugh like it’s pootie tang Lo. city rep.

Flow gritty, plus so pretty

Shoulder shimmying in my videos like the old

Diddy Busy playing with me at my neighbours crib

Bring some whiskey; they can sip and stay a bit

Pray before I make the trip Labels wouldn’t check for the kid.

No babysit

Now every stage is like home, and I’m playing it

Hotel checkouts.

Check out the passport

Miles on the dashboard, and that was just last tour

Now I’m back and I’m sitting ’till my back’s sore

Back at the house.

You can catch me on the back porch