Doowhop lyrics

by

Blu


[Verse 1: Blu]
Yo, uh
Spokes, spinning gold, hundreds folding, hundred folds
Rockin' golds, stuntin' in some swole hundreds like they wasn't dope
Push that other though, summer zone, stuck on a stone
Rubbing the rabbit's foot, fattened by that fish, fathom
Full as f*ck like a wholly and a phantom
In its mammoth mouth, mix the fly fragrance with the Jasmine
Feeling passionate, passing by pappy's in a Caddy frog
Big-body Buick banging Dilla, dawg
Lost in the thorns, almost cost him his arm
Super scrolls off the block with the charm
Blew his nose on a cloth made of yarn
Cool, collected and calm, should have been done
Long nights had you looking at dawns, could he be wrong?
Lunar energy feeling like the moon and me was meant to be
Left the day jealous like the sun doesn't visit him
You kidding me, B? I'm where that chemistry peaks
Between wind and water, rich off of calligraphy leaves
Written like—

[Verse 2: Planet Asia]
Welcome to the Terrordome, gold herringbone flow
Shell-toe Geronimo, domino bro'
Magical, moment of zoning, dollar rate, scholar slate
You can't tolerate with, what I consolidate
You f*cking with me, that's a myth that I just dominate
The Death Star shade of black, barricade, bury your bus
Fade your area with various thrusts
The most dangerous, dangling diamond
Foreign languages hang with us
Bang with us, clap up your halo, sprinkle the angel dust
Solid stone, polished chrome
Saturday night special, I came to bless you
Unless you wanna get into some gangster
Do the math, I'm something Middle Eastern
I'm a iron skillet with hot grease, popping pieces
Rocking my sneakers on top of speakers, cop a feature
And stop leaching, my dialog, dietary law
Requires for you to just go and jump off the deep end
[Verse 3: Killer Ben]
My crisis: robbed twice, the stock market talking crisis
I'm not a Pisces, I keep Aquarius advisors
The nicest, burning the baggy tops off the cyphers
No need to test the vest, there's no scales weighin' these mices
Iron Flag fortune, brown bag, forty in fortunes
Y'all n*ggas lunching, like roasted ducks posted in ovens
I am flag money in the glad bag, stretched in ironclad
Iron bag, mic-jack low, flashing the pistol, spazz
Green, Cee-Lo, Elohim, cream emo
I reload, throw cee-lo, hear, see no evil
Cobain credo, elope the Pope, smoke his meatloaf
Bury the weed toast, we under siege, bleed East Coast
And shorty deep throat, be on her knees, green peacoat
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