Body Bag Ben - Etude In Gold lyrics

[Intro] Uh-huh Uh-huh, motherfu*kers, uh-huh That's produced and written by (Body Bag) 805 sh*t, bustin', yo [Verse 1] From go, this sh*t glitters gold (Ooh) Pen stroke like a gold mine, y'all motherfu*kers is peddlin' fools gold Shooter like GoldenEye, I keep the tool in the robe That's another golden brick for the road, dripped in purple and gold He got his gold rush, chopper paint his face like he gold dust (Brr) Turn these words into gold, he got the Midas touch Golden gloves dot his eye Danny Jacobs (Blatt) Ain't no low hangin' fruits broke down a chicken Cook the shake up, huh (Boom) Body Bag sh*t on your lawn like like Ason (Haha) Servin' these gold tops, you know it's A1, left his face numb They one milk crate challenge away From me walkin' around like Michael Douglas and fallin' down Rippin' the drums, spray the place up, uh They tossin' shots from the cheap seats The sun rock steady like them breakers on Beach Street Slice 'em cheek to cheek Open they chakras 'til the tips carve 'em up like Baraka Toss the penne with the alla vodka, huh Gold tanks like P, y'all sound like Silkk the Shocker Milk tucked in the jogger, y'all dumbies know the mantra Squeezin' 'til it's empty, you ain't an innocent bystander if you posin' next to the enemy Pennin' my notions in the melody On my Jayo like he felony, uh Gave it to him, but he ain't know what to do with it (Nah) These so-called cooks is fu*kin' up the recipe I know the jooks big wood match the mood and the energy (And the energy) Ha, you gettin' stomped like there's ten of me [Chorus] With-with that bullsh*t, step to the rear, son Leave shows and dead mics, beat kids with lead pipes From a wild town, we don't bust down clowns So, bow, bow, bow down [Verse 2] Look, brick by brick, he laid it perfectly Out of courtesy, paid the service fee, now the same pussies jerkin' me (Pussy) Purposely move with ill intent Y'all ill-advised and out your element, the drum rip (Ah) This sh*t hangin' like an ornament dipped through the orients Aura drippin' like Moroccan oil The spoils of war that made his stomach coil Don't play it cool, that make my blood boil (Nah) Huh, blood in, blood out, he plant his roots deep inside the soil Blood oranges on the charcuterie Word, smoked meats, dead all beefs, there's somethin' new to see The work creamy like tahini, chop the beige pieces like sashimi [?][2:17] head blue in the face just like the genie Man, I'm through waitin' Melt the thin ice that y'all skatin' Made this sh*t an occupation, Lord Swear to God they in it to win it, ain't no kumbayas fu*k 'em all, kill 'em all, Lord, spin the [?][2:30] Huh, did 'em one better, turnt my back on 'em Look, don't mistake a king for a beggar I begged to differ when the ink hit the ledger, held 'em accountable Ha, word, no man an island, though He just an island boy, but where the rest at? Talkin' 'bout you keep your vest on Click-clack, then where your vest at? Turn his neck to a V when the lead clap The impact made his head snap back, left his sh*t cracked [Chorus] With-with that bullsh*t, step to the rear, son Leave shows and dead mics, beat kids with lead pipes From a wild town, we don't bust down clowns So, bow, bow, bow down [Outro] Body Bag