Cardboard (feat. Jason Charm, Brandon Moon, Deqwi)

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Seizmo

3:11

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Move your big head ass out the way nigga the tick is on
I remember hearing this as a kid and I'd sing along
Now im grown seizmo flipped the shit and im spitting raw
From bigger to little folk
This is dope
If you want it then
Over or I can deliver those
Christmas datin with your girl
My belt pendent was a mistletoe
She had vodka and dinner rolls
Asked if I could dig a give and go
Hit her wit a whoa
Shit
Then Im right back like a good stretch
With a full stomach and some shit for the summer
Khaled whatever you want nigga this is another one
Kiss the artwork leave your lipstick on the cover
The album art always looking like we dipped it in butter
My Squad pull up looking like the cast of in living color
Damon weighing
Jim carrey all of them niggas into a structure
That we bury niggas beneath
I'm the X factor like I'm the multiplier
I put you 6 feet under you praising false messiahs
Y'all niggas on the same period that you dot your I with
The dot in my eye that make me see that everywhere and everyone
I look at my pupils but this is not an iris
These sounds are secret my nigga this ain't a awkward silence
You could ring the alarm but this isn't a nightmare
There's no plea to cop to try and stop the sirens
And when I say sirens I don't mean a flashing light
I just mean we plotting violence
Put y'all on a wave with these vocals then make you crash and die
Y'all ain't got the paper or magazines to match this vibe
Catch this Cassius right when the hook hit
That leave you stuck in your tracks like a wheel spinning over a massive spike
Or some lean with a dash of sprite
I'm all business once I lay out the cardboard
She call me HOV that's why your bitch is on all fours
You running tracks but catching up to me
You'll lose your pace stumble then I steal your thunder like Paul George
Cause I got high standards
With a kyrie handle you try to reach them I guarantee you gon fall short
Anything goes in it
Gumbo the pot sniff
Simmer the flow whisk in
China my plate shift
Smelling like cheap whisky
Spilling my drunk fist
Blinded by Moonshine
But still Sun kissed
Young fella melanina on melancholy
Blew Hue so I'm having a panther party
You got the invite Don't tell everybody
Spit Propane propane accessories Cot damn it bobby
Whitney we got a problem
We do not know our traumas
I'm in a sane asylum
Bitching bout many dogmas
Piece keeping daily lamas
Weekend could turn to drama
Weekend could turn Bahamas
She pop that Punta Cana
I'm bout to move to Ghana
I'm eating curry chana
Millions I need billions
Manifest some dollars
Millions I need billions
Manifest a mantra comma for the karma
Suite her
Moving like a semi shooter
I keep it a hundred
No need for refunding
Used boxes tossed in the streets I'm indecent in public
Got em shook when they reach for the covers
They know when I'm done spitting the box and the beat have been punished
Obviously you don't want it
Hop in the Beamer skrt off then proceed with my brothers
Thousand degrees in the summer
Shower the streets with a couple
Pounds of that heat breeze with some powerful leaves and a rubber
Found out some people were trouble
How could this be you were trusted
Momma told me that families forever
My hands is together
In prayer asking that any enemy get blown away
Like a wish getting passed by a feather
Or somebody looking at my wrist like a national treasure
I don't need no one tracking my steps or
Begging for favours when they know the answer is never
My plan or endeavour
Leave the planet in panic after rapping with half of the effort
It took to put shit or trash where it's meant for

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