Rare Paradigms by Koncept Jack$on Lyrics
[These lyrics are intentionally locked and left partial due to a DMCA takedown request. Please do not edit the lyrics to include the removed sections.]
[Verse 1: Al.divino]
Cocaine slopes was stable
Red laser on the SK, I let it spray you won’t wake up again
Bag a 10 outta 10 bitch just to fuck her friend
Cup her hand, runeth over suckers pretend like they about shit
I doubt it, we keep an ounce lit
Nothing but that dower power drive the book of powder
Outstanding what that bitch could sniff in an hour
One thing I could never tolerate is a coward
I’m fucking cougars at the [?]
Pedaling medicine from Medellín
By any means but I’mma get it in, know that
Kodak Black playing in the background, packed crowd
Walked in the show they didn’t pat me down
So if drama pop off, I’mma finish it
Strictly that fly shit, ya’ll know what the business is
His figure face is probably fucking up the autopsy
Sawed off shotty, this the ghost of John Gotti
I’m at the Barclay’s Center on the floor
Ya’ll the type to put a diamond ring on a whore
What the fuck is that?
Ferragamo flannel looking like a lumberjack
Just tryna put my city on the map
Pretty rap, ya’ll piggybacking the next man
Catch me at your college dorm doing the keg stand
Twisting up a zip of headband
Don’t have my money on time? You’s a deadman
[Verse 2: Koncept Jack$on]
My city full of Jerry Lawlers
I bury all ya
The cherry cough with the medical card, that’s very thoughtful
My petty broad angel wake me to pet it raw from a side angle
Wetting the cloth
Watch her locks dangle
We hopscotch on blocks that dangerous son
You cockblockin’ plots cause you couldn’t hang with us
Lame with the movement
Bang with the truest
Rather be with lames and you knew it
Mangle your crew
You too, saints with the bangers that don’t do shit
Niggas to-to
Washed in your town, pardon my back
I mob with my gardener and stash GATs
Andromeda stats
Palming the ass, bump the slow jam, roll flannel
Fuck the drama and backage, Kon don't hold hands or perform anal
Winners, antennas fine tuned, pop wines from 9 Junes ago
With Fly up in a timeless monsoon yo
Drop jewels at remote spots, four blocks
Down from the hidden temple
That’s my dope spot
Nigga
[Verse 3]
[Verse 1: Al.divino]
Cocaine slopes was stable
Red laser on the SK, I let it spray you won’t wake up again
Bag a 10 outta 10 bitch just to fuck her friend
Cup her hand, runeth over suckers pretend like they about shit
I doubt it, we keep an ounce lit
Nothing but that dower power drive the book of powder
Outstanding what that bitch could sniff in an hour
One thing I could never tolerate is a coward
I’m fucking cougars at the [?]
Pedaling medicine from Medellín
By any means but I’mma get it in, know that
Kodak Black playing in the background, packed crowd
Walked in the show they didn’t pat me down
So if drama pop off, I’mma finish it
Strictly that fly shit, ya’ll know what the business is
His figure face is probably fucking up the autopsy
Sawed off shotty, this the ghost of John Gotti
I’m at the Barclay’s Center on the floor
Ya’ll the type to put a diamond ring on a whore
What the fuck is that?
Ferragamo flannel looking like a lumberjack
Just tryna put my city on the map
Pretty rap, ya’ll piggybacking the next man
Catch me at your college dorm doing the keg stand
Twisting up a zip of headband
Don’t have my money on time? You’s a deadman
[Verse 2: Koncept Jack$on]
My city full of Jerry Lawlers
I bury all ya
The cherry cough with the medical card, that’s very thoughtful
My petty broad angel wake me to pet it raw from a side angle
Wetting the cloth
Watch her locks dangle
We hopscotch on blocks that dangerous son
You cockblockin’ plots cause you couldn’t hang with us
Lame with the movement
Bang with the truest
Rather be with lames and you knew it
Mangle your crew
You too, saints with the bangers that don’t do shit
Niggas to-to
Washed in your town, pardon my back
I mob with my gardener and stash GATs
Andromeda stats
Palming the ass, bump the slow jam, roll flannel
Fuck the drama and backage, Kon don't hold hands or perform anal
Winners, antennas fine tuned, pop wines from 9 Junes ago
With Fly up in a timeless monsoon yo
Drop jewels at remote spots, four blocks
Down from the hidden temple
That’s my dope spot
Nigga
[Verse 3]