SOCK A KNEE Lyrics by Westside Gunn
Ayo, these salty caviar bumps, grilled swordfish and Loro Piana suede jumpers looking gorgeous
Saks Fifth, backing up fifties in the men’s club
Wild Fallucion, Thu the Nigga, I got the Bench,
Truck, Yo, Saganese, Droppin’ the 28,
He shot the fully AK broad day and got away (Brr, brr, vroom, brr)
My pops is different, my moms say consious wisdom
I gave the fiend three wishes, one was sniff, end it
Next was tennis, you on tennis, you dudes finished
Headshots, your forehead diminished (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Head shots, your forehead diminished
A shot red neem in my bed
A Lennox O2 with visas, my legs is vintage
In the kitchen I’m Dennis
Ramen, stretch it with the blind bricks
Just Don brim (Uh), Stove God timeless
Don’t go chasing this shit, you heard Chelly
Flygod Sauconys on, running through Melly’s (Let’s go)
Back and forth to the plug so fast, tore my Achilles
I don’t even know how ’cause I was stretching all silly like
Want a three, I used to want a hundred keys (I did)
When Donovan McNabb was in the town, I was going Drew Brees (Woo)
Crack game was big east, back when I was banging G’s
Hit the kitchen light, it’s marble everywhere, I’m really eating, (We really good)
I’ll take this money, disappear, niggas’ll never see me
Tap phones, we talking on them bitches like [Baron Télévie?]
They don’t know what the fuck I’m saying
I had six hundred on the way in (Woo)
Put some context on them stories, bitch, stop playing
I really pay
I got the blueprint from slimey (I did)
Eliantte in the kitchen with me cooking diamond (Woo)
I was in the back of the boat and now I’m the pilot (Woo)
A nail in the casket, a [?] sent you the— brr
Pop the white stamp on the casket (Brr), now you God-sent (Bap, bap, bap)
They was praying I didn’t do it how I do it (Do it)
Once the bullshit cook off, and I’m like, “I knew it” (Knew it)
See, they mix up being silent with being stupid
But I don’t mix up being real with being goofy (I don’t)
I’m tailor-made to step on you niggas like if the suit fit
Walk in the MET, smelling like a brick, bitch, I’m ruthless (Bitch, I’m stoned)
You know Stove play with them ones, he never knew ya
All my jewelry on in Shibuya, I’m feeling Cuba (Let’s go)
I’m good and everybody around me straight, I’m in pursuit again (What)
Everything back that they stole from me, and it’s mut— (Woo)
Fuck
