Ishkabibbles song by Westside Gunn from Primary Album Album not found. The music is composed and produced by Joel. Genre is Hip-Hop, Hardcore Rap, Rap music. The Record company is unknown. Released on None.
The video content came from: Youtube
Ishkabibbles Meaning
| [[Intro: Westside Gunn] Ayo [Verse 1: Westside Gunn & Black Thought] Over pots, it’s the overlord, sittin’ on crates (Ah) Half and half durags, sippin’ the quarter water Quarter in my socks, lord, and we rocked We hopped up out the Porsche and torture (Skrrt) Hermès sport rocker, fiends actin’ like it’s a soap opera “West, I’ma die, I need four dollars”, no problem Bring back six, and two more niggas Dior dealers, stashed about half in the floor in it (Ah) Ain’t no business like raw business, S6 all tinted Wipin’ my gums, make sure it’s authentic Aw shit, head spinnin’, lead noodles Monogram collar on the red poodle, feds will do you filthy Havе you comin’ home seventy, somе shit’ll ever be (Ah) Bentley on Beverly (Skrrt), Palm Angel MAC that shoot heavenly (Brr, brr, brr) Drop kick the brick and hit the Pedigree (Hit the Pedigree, ah) Ayo, bodies on the nine, Murakami with the rhyme (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) My shooter rockin’ red Muslim garms ’cause he slime (Ah) Find another vein, he’ll be fine, we divine (Ah) Skeleton wrist, what a time, what a time (Ah) My nigga got caught with dog food, got a dime (Got a dime) Didn’t drop a dime, on this Earth, I’ma shine (I’ma shine) We mobbin’ on the yard, one was nine, where was Shine? (Where was Shine?) I’m Sly Green in his prime (Ah, ayo) , [Verse 2: Black Thought] King Musa Keita with the Mali gold Hire y’all to hold and keep cleaner than Diwali soul Mean and never highly questionable like Bomani Jones The silent partner, angel investor nobody knows His clothes smellin’ like Firdous and Somali Rose Them fiends histamines keep ’em with a snotty nose (Damn) What a waste like the place where that shotty goes They’ll prolly doze in the corner, tell ’em “Adios” Heron could cop a Veyron, but he push a Neon This coke’ll knock the face off the Sphinx like ‘Leon He just an unassumin’ normal human, never beyond What seem to be his means, he ain’t tryna do a eon I see him when he park up, he rarely ever talk up The elevator broke, he in a four-story walk up West Indian Archie memory, he don’t even spark up He pull the plug on every enemy that try to mark up The price point, homie on his kingpin for life joint Big Darby, private island, just him and his wife joint Word, he only visit via charter, still beg, borrow, and barter Son, we gotta move smarter like a Carter And stand in purple rain like Prince and Apollonia Playin’ like Chillean seabass in Patagonia It’s only a few who could see past the average homie Or the reason for the sneezin’, be glad we got pneumonia, kid On some cleaner than ammonia shit Ayo] |
