SINIMA - Desperado lyrics

Verse 1: Pa**port stamps and runway ramps Me and the homies old school chill, we antique lamp Cruise the city, hit the mall probably trolling for tramps Back to the crib sipping bubbly about old as my Gramps Crack a dutch Fill it up, seal in the plants Smoking like a freight train, got a lean in my stance Just left Bucharest, on my way out to France Writing my rap résumé, I'm applying for grants Chasing the cheese Very necessary for survival Always staying fresh, apparel aficionado Make amends now, you ain't trying to be my rival Dolo vigilante, I'm the games desperado Blowing up, something like the 13th Apollo Doomed since I'm shooting for the moon I can make it with any tool If the game's a T-bone and all I got is a spoon I'mma mash it up and eat 'til I got no room Chorus: Life's got to be more than struggle and sorrow Could you fight all night, knowing you'd die tomorrow? Harsh facts, sometimes too hard to swallow Bringing justice, minus the jury, a desperado (x2) Verse 2: I'm here now to issue an ultimatum The "artists" penning wackness and DJs that play 'em Quit practicing this art that I and others hold sacred Or get fried in the fire alive, don't test my patience You don't want to see me at high noon My flow known to claim the lives of crews like typhoons Sharp as a thumbtack on the end of a harpoon Confiscate your pen and pad for show in my war room Think tank where I draw up my schemes On 56-inch LED screens Starbucks macchiato, wide awake in my dreams You was popping 'til I came on the scene But now your whole team is tumbleweed Has anybody ever died from insignificance? You can be first, I'll send your ma my sentiments My verses stand forever, lyrical life sentences Run after bread blind, end up buried next to Benjamin Good citizen (Chorus x2) Verse 3: Take ten steps, turn, draw, aim blast If you miss then you'll quickly be a thing of the past You see, my aim's impeccable, well above world cla** Rocking stitched together hundreds for my bandanna mask I got to Celebrate Each and every time I down a foe With, chicks I barely know The Hen and the moscato po(ur) Doorbell rings, in comes my patna with an O(z) of dro Everybody steaming, and mingling, getting sociable Staying focused though Ducking bounty hunters daily John Q. Laws, they know my steez, want to cage me All of these obstacles almost had me going crazy The road to the top, looking rougher than slave feet But I press on, guitar case and a microphone No cross-country team, I was running them miles alone Think twice (be)fore you mention me in songs Ignore me and become a pile of bones in my catacombs (Chorus x2)