[Intro]
([?], hahahahe)
[Chorus]
Yes, they twaddle, yes, they twaddle
On years-old beats
Hundred thousand for Cartier, hundred thousand for my team
El Patino, Jean Paul Gaultier
Half kilo, the bag rife with snow
[Verse]
No shake-hands, rather shake for me your booty
Don't call me "fellow," I know you fake friends
Your sweatband looks like it's for groupies
Draw on drill beats, got the weed seeds in my pocket
Arrive the cops then, brother, then toss it
Raving up more than the Red Rockets
40 degrees in my room, hours-long for one hit
In front of the microphone like a philosopher, you wannabes don't catch up
Unsigned in my prime time, no longer I'm that nice guy
Knowing what I want when I get in that drop-top
[Chorus]
Yes, they twaddle, yes, they twaddle
On years-old beats
Hundred thousand for Cartier, hundred thousand for my team
El Patino, Jean Paul Gaultier
Half kilo, the bag rife with snow
[Outro]
(Yes, they twaddle, yes, they twaddle)
(Hundred thousand for Cartier)
(El Patino, Jean Paul Gaultier)
(Half kilo, the bag rife with snow)