The Weather

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Kiiing Leo

2:44

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Can you turn me up a bit in the headphones
God damn
Made the beat too
Jack Frost the pope of these winter flows
Collect cheques I'm a mess 
Then I spend it on clothes
I'm stupid with the flossing
Flabbergasted with you artists
You making friends with these snakes like your name Sanjay
Your shots, pump fake
Talk too much, Humphrey
Need accounts clumsy
Need to live comfy 
Need wifeys ass chunky
Then we maths, function (Yuh)
I should pimp, lovely
You should quit, dummy
Man you stink, musty
You just dirt, dusty
Plus you damn ugly
My flow cold, slushy
You a plain gumby 
Got to pass the ductchie (Pass the dutchie)
Like we play rugby
I need my frost

I know I'll get the money, one day
Straight to it, one way
My verses, psalms say
A poet from Pompeii
Rolling a bomb blade
Balling Bron James
You ain't on my level 
The weather a bit different 
I know I'll get the money, one day
Straight to it, one way
My verses, psalms say
A poet from Pompeii
Rolling a bomb blade
Balling Bron James
You ain't on my level 
The weather a bit different 

My glow is ominous (Ominous)
It's obvious I'm an optimist 
Making friends with these O's 
I am Asterix with Obelix (Obelix)
Got a lick and some tricks
Or treat the beat like it's beef
Sizzle the steaks if I break (Tsss)
I'm going raw you relate (No, no, no)
Naa never that
Throwing work like a quarterback
I done sold a quarter batch 
The plug gave me a quarter stat (Sta)
I had to record a track 
Cause I already porter cash (Money)
I completely slaughter trash
Kicking it like soccer match (Woah)
Only sign a deal if the masters mine
Cause I'm a mastermind
I am past the grind
Shining through the crevice I'm (Ahhh)
Wakefield all day since we started
This my eulogy for all the departed (Yuh, yuh, yuh)

I know I'll get the money, one day
Straight to it, one way
My verses, psalms say
A poet from Pompeii
Rolling a bomb blade
Balling Bron James
You ain't on my level 
The weather a bit different 
I know I'll get the money, one day
Straight to it, one way
My verses, psalms say
A poet from Pompeii
Rolling a bomb blade
Balling Bron James
You ain't on my level 
The weather a bit different 
Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh

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