Discrete by Kid Dop3 Lyrics
[Intro]
Yeah, check, look
[Verse 1: Kid Dop3]
I got pot to smoke, pounds on me like bench press
I don't consider this heavy lifting, kush cologne, I know you smell it
Catch a contact, a mile away you start inhaling, I been riding blaze
Ghosted as I'm floating through my city
You hop inside that foreign, watch them people treat you different
Off status symbols, new shit ain't even tinted, just a toasted owner whippin'
Baked goods, my kitchen jumpin', gold grill shimmer
Through the smoke and business discussions, and that's a slight flex
Quantum steps over your Timex, I chatted with the jeweler
Asked him if he could design this, put the crown in my mouth
They grillin' ya highness, still smoking that blindness
My aroma can treat your gramp's glaucoma
Need 2-8's on my zips, no shorts, no [?]
Too stressed for stress dog, naw I keeps that potent
Seen my ex the other day when I was gliding down the beat
I ain't stop, I ain't talk, I ain't even skip a beat
Just eye contact and smiled, brim lower than my seat
Yeah
[Hook]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I can't have my name in these streets
No, no, no
I gotta keep it discrete
[Verse: Dom McLennon]
Niggas love to talk about the grind, when they don't really do shit
Why everybody so useless? Best I get to do is use 'em as a toothpick
Acting so foolish, left me killing every track, ain't therapeutic
Bitch I got the movement and we all so ruthless
Don't got time for no nuisance, don't fuck with my smoothness
You niggas are clueless
Guess that it can be hereditary
You ain't got a future if it isn't scary
Hit a lick by any means necessary
But the type of lick we hit is revolutionary
So you must be mistaken or minding or vacant if you thought we ever were faking
My dream ain't been taking, I'm going for all of the bacon
That's due to the place I was raised in
You niggas is burnt out like raisins, oh no
I guess that that would be unfortunate
I put that ego up like it's an ornament, fam
Hope my bro feel this to feel like the man
Options never been in my plan unless it's options in the contract
You ain't talking digits? Better fall back
Hit you with the vision, and we off that
Niggas can't flex like us, cause they never thought that
Goddamn
[Hook]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I can't have my name in these streets
No, no, no
I gotta keep it discrete
Aye, I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, can't have my name in these streets
Uh, niggas be talking and plotting on me
I gotta keep it lowkey, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah
I gotta, yeah
Yeah, check, look
[Verse 1: Kid Dop3]
I got pot to smoke, pounds on me like bench press
I don't consider this heavy lifting, kush cologne, I know you smell it
Catch a contact, a mile away you start inhaling, I been riding blaze
Ghosted as I'm floating through my city
You hop inside that foreign, watch them people treat you different
Off status symbols, new shit ain't even tinted, just a toasted owner whippin'
Baked goods, my kitchen jumpin', gold grill shimmer
Through the smoke and business discussions, and that's a slight flex
Quantum steps over your Timex, I chatted with the jeweler
Asked him if he could design this, put the crown in my mouth
They grillin' ya highness, still smoking that blindness
My aroma can treat your gramp's glaucoma
Need 2-8's on my zips, no shorts, no [?]
Too stressed for stress dog, naw I keeps that potent
Seen my ex the other day when I was gliding down the beat
I ain't stop, I ain't talk, I ain't even skip a beat
Just eye contact and smiled, brim lower than my seat
Yeah
[Hook]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I can't have my name in these streets
No, no, no
I gotta keep it discrete
[Verse: Dom McLennon]
Niggas love to talk about the grind, when they don't really do shit
Why everybody so useless? Best I get to do is use 'em as a toothpick
Acting so foolish, left me killing every track, ain't therapeutic
Bitch I got the movement and we all so ruthless
Don't got time for no nuisance, don't fuck with my smoothness
You niggas are clueless
Guess that it can be hereditary
You ain't got a future if it isn't scary
Hit a lick by any means necessary
But the type of lick we hit is revolutionary
So you must be mistaken or minding or vacant if you thought we ever were faking
My dream ain't been taking, I'm going for all of the bacon
That's due to the place I was raised in
You niggas is burnt out like raisins, oh no
I guess that that would be unfortunate
I put that ego up like it's an ornament, fam
Hope my bro feel this to feel like the man
Options never been in my plan unless it's options in the contract
You ain't talking digits? Better fall back
Hit you with the vision, and we off that
Niggas can't flex like us, cause they never thought that
Goddamn
[Hook]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I can't have my name in these streets
No, no, no
I gotta keep it discrete
Aye, I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, can't have my name in these streets
Uh, niggas be talking and plotting on me
I gotta keep it lowkey, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I gotta keep it discrete
Yeah, yeah
I gotta, yeah