88 Wind Cult, has arrived!
I am the hurricane
I make the pavement
You talking shit
I don't f*ck with that language
Sever his clique
Make him curl up in anguish
AR gon' pop up
And give him face a lift
I meditate when I'm up in my grotto
If he talk shit, knock the meat out his taco
Paint the block up, like I am Picasso
I got his girl, adding cheese on her nachos
Pussy you little, quit acting macho
Whip out the shotty, make his body hollow
Bipolar shit, like I am Chicago
Drip but I'm cold though, I am gelato
Latina lady, she quick with them pesos
Pussy look tired, that shit is a day old
I am the god of this shit, so behold
Licks, 101, nigga, I had to enroll
Glock making art, that is my utensil
I am the only one, who has potential
Killing off rappers, making my payroll
Kick on the door, like it's soccer, that's my goal
Glock got him red
So he look like a punch bowl
MelodyKaze - Hit Like a Hurricane Lyrics
MelodyKaze - Hit Like a Hurricane Lyrics
Official
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88 Wind Cult, has arrived!
I am the hurricane
I make the pavement
You talking shit
I don't f*ck with that language
Sever his clique
Make him curl up in anguish
AR gon' pop up
And give him face a lift
I meditate when I'm up in my grotto
If he talk shit, knock the meat out his taco
Paint the block up, like I am Picasso
I got his girl, adding cheese on her nachos
Pussy you little, quit acting macho
Whip out the shotty, make his body hollow
Bipolar shit, like I am Chicago
Drip but I'm cold though, I am gelato
Latina lady, she quick with them pesos
Pussy look tired, that shit is a day old
I am the god of this shit, so behold
Licks, 101, nigga, I had to enroll
Glock making art, that is my utensil
I am the only one, who has potential
Killing off rappers, making my payroll
Kick on the door, like it's soccer, that's my goal
Glock got him red
So he look like a punch bowl
I am the hurricane
I make the pavement
You talking shit
I don't f*ck with that language
Sever his clique
Make him curl up in anguish
AR gon' pop up
And give him face a lift
I meditate when I'm up in my grotto
If he talk shit, knock the meat out his taco
Paint the block up, like I am Picasso
I got his girl, adding cheese on her nachos
Pussy you little, quit acting macho
Whip out the shotty, make his body hollow
Bipolar shit, like I am Chicago
Drip but I'm cold though, I am gelato
Latina lady, she quick with them pesos
Pussy look tired, that shit is a day old
I am the god of this shit, so behold
Licks, 101, nigga, I had to enroll
Glock making art, that is my utensil
I am the only one, who has potential
Killing off rappers, making my payroll
Kick on the door, like it's soccer, that's my goal
Glock got him red
So he look like a punch bowl
Writer: Daniel Moore
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid