Crumbs - Speak

I told you, it’s that West Side Art Goon Craigslist Killer Shit

That best in the west

That pervert life shit

That best in the world

They can’t fuck with Speakinho anymore

Easy fucking money!

Weed crumbs in my Mac Book

Bitches in my black book

Good for that head but they got to go

They can’t cook

Little cochina shaking ass en mi cocina

I think her name Sabrina (what?!)

She might be a ballerina (what?!)

Shots of that tequila, now she call me maravilla

With tattoos on her face, trying to be like Pata Fria

I park her like a Kia, roll that pussy like a Porshe

Of course, she sucking dick until her voice is hoarse (perv)

Now, that is when I gallop, oysters and the scallops

But you were on that little shrimp scampi and them salads

My hair is bigger than a Bon Jovi ballad

I’m stepping foot in any hood, they tell me that I’m valid (perv)

They tell me that your boys bobbing, weaving like you Floyd (perv)

You smoking like a fiend lurking in the shadows paranoid

That ain’t my business, lord can I get a witness?

My future baby momma got the fitness of a gymnast

She doing yoga love them crystals and the Maharishi

But still she super freaky, fuck me in that Mitsubishi (perv)

My crown chakra on another world you couldn’t reach me

Word to Kon, life is peachy, Speaky rapping beasty

I been crunk, polo horses on my swim trunks

This shit is easy, where my chopsticks where my dim, son

I feel like Big Pun, I feel like big

Vader on a hater but I make it out to Sada

My boots are alligator (perv) my grin is crocodile (perv)

God bless the USA my style Colonel Guile

Outro:

(…gave a fuck about Speakinho!)

Motherfuckers!

(Hat trick all on a bitch!)

I told them, they couldn’t fuck with me!

The legendary.

Let’s get it