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Dabrye – The Appetite lyrics
[Intro: Quelle Chris]
Once again
Show it, show it, show it, show it
[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
You a weapon, I'm up in the bed blowin' head
My shit a hundred percent
I'm a boss, I'm not a underling
Got a hundred links in the infantry (Let 'em in)
My niggas gon' ride until the engines cease
Victory is ceased, bitches striptease
I might try a 50 on a pinky ring
Pull up like, "Where the hoes?" Take out a-holes
Don't you ever compare me to those sambos
Cut the top off the rose, call it Amber Rose
I got so many hoes I'm like the lead singer in Cameo
But I don't taste like candy though
Tanned pea coat, tap dance on Miami coke
Cherry nine elevens, got a lot of weapons
My lady thighs make her look hind-legged
Exotic pet, she like a wild leopard
Eff it, I might let off a couple hollow heads for leverage
This is effortless, you bein' extra
Niggas say, "Wavy", that's an S curl
The pump'll make your chest curl, finesse your girl, you lead a flesh world
Sends you up, boy
[Chorus: Quelle Chris]
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
Bubble coast, bubble coast
When we was broke we sold soap
Y'all slowpokes long dicked the pussy, give it slow strokes
Flow sound like shit I ghostwrote
Ain't no hope in dope, that shit for dodos
Plus I take too many photos dipped in rose gold
The Benz is Merlot, the vocal booth's an inferno
Took the burst from Alberto
And not a German pearl like serval
I'm layin' up, twistin', nervous, somethin' fertile
Let you tell it, the whips jewels runnin'
I threw the million at my lieutenant, the cop [?] (Get it)
I might set it, bled the way you felt lightheaded
You had to wear light satin
Base leather up in white seven, it's like heaven
I bang with the knife to slice bread with
Snatch the bread and split, you get your head hit
If you had street etiquette, I better break
Niggas ain't better than me, they never been
[Chorus: Quelle Chris]
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
[Verse 3: Quelle Chris]
Hoodrat fun like Young Latarian
Glide my stank ass 'cross your stage like Omarion
It's the big leagues, buddy boy, please carry on
[?] fuck big titties and spilled dairy on 'em
James Bond villains with retractable ceilin's
Sharks in the tank wanna bank off the brilliance
Place the best bid on the best this side of the Mississip'
Stay fly like we're fishes [?]
Make a dollar do tricks like Richie Rich
I don't sub tweet, I @ you like I’m gettin' sick
Return of the Mack, part 2, movin' at Mach 6
Fastest route to thug mansion where 'Pac sits
My pocket is nonsense, my new shit is doofus
Thirsty biters wanna bite but can only sip like they toothless, useless
[Verse 4: Danny Brown]
It's like walkin' through quicksand
Streets that take you under, keep your beats like Nixon
I'm livin' for demeanour, every sentence and sentence
Verbal game is off the spinach, one take and I'm finished
Livin' in my own world like the globe don't twirl
Roll blunts as a dumbbell, sensi curls
Smoke so much from stress that my brain don't rest
So I write all night to get it off of my chest
Therapeutic with the music, weren't for that, might lose it
Real recognize real and you look translucent
Rappers too emotional, be all up in they feelings
Went to give you somethin' then I'll tell you how to go get it
Wait, roll up at the back, that's a daily routine
Used to sip lean but now we see, actin' our dream
That's the way the cookie crumbles, say you gotta lay up humble
Or a bullet make you tumble, gotta watch the ones around you
[Chorus: Quelle Chris]
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Once again
Show it, show it, show it, show it
[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
You a weapon, I'm up in the bed blowin' head
My shit a hundred percent
I'm a boss, I'm not a underling
Got a hundred links in the infantry (Let 'em in)
My niggas gon' ride until the engines cease
Victory is ceased, bitches striptease
I might try a 50 on a pinky ring
Pull up like, "Where the hoes?" Take out a-holes
Don't you ever compare me to those sambos
Cut the top off the rose, call it Amber Rose
I got so many hoes I'm like the lead singer in Cameo
But I don't taste like candy though
Tanned pea coat, tap dance on Miami coke
Cherry nine elevens, got a lot of weapons
My lady thighs make her look hind-legged
Exotic pet, she like a wild leopard
Eff it, I might let off a couple hollow heads for leverage
This is effortless, you bein' extra
Niggas say, "Wavy", that's an S curl
The pump'll make your chest curl, finesse your girl, you lead a flesh world
Sends you up, boy
[Chorus: Quelle Chris]
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
Bubble coast, bubble coast
When we was broke we sold soap
Y'all slowpokes long dicked the pussy, give it slow strokes
Flow sound like shit I ghostwrote
Ain't no hope in dope, that shit for dodos
Plus I take too many photos dipped in rose gold
The Benz is Merlot, the vocal booth's an inferno
Took the burst from Alberto
And not a German pearl like serval
I'm layin' up, twistin', nervous, somethin' fertile
Let you tell it, the whips jewels runnin'
I threw the million at my lieutenant, the cop [?] (Get it)
I might set it, bled the way you felt lightheaded
You had to wear light satin
Base leather up in white seven, it's like heaven
I bang with the knife to slice bread with
Snatch the bread and split, you get your head hit
If you had street etiquette, I better break
Niggas ain't better than me, they never been
[Chorus: Quelle Chris]
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
[Verse 3: Quelle Chris]
Hoodrat fun like Young Latarian
Glide my stank ass 'cross your stage like Omarion
It's the big leagues, buddy boy, please carry on
[?] fuck big titties and spilled dairy on 'em
James Bond villains with retractable ceilin's
Sharks in the tank wanna bank off the brilliance
Place the best bid on the best this side of the Mississip'
Stay fly like we're fishes [?]
Make a dollar do tricks like Richie Rich
I don't sub tweet, I @ you like I’m gettin' sick
Return of the Mack, part 2, movin' at Mach 6
Fastest route to thug mansion where 'Pac sits
My pocket is nonsense, my new shit is doofus
Thirsty biters wanna bite but can only sip like they toothless, useless
[Verse 4: Danny Brown]
It's like walkin' through quicksand
Streets that take you under, keep your beats like Nixon
I'm livin' for demeanour, every sentence and sentence
Verbal game is off the spinach, one take and I'm finished
Livin' in my own world like the globe don't twirl
Roll blunts as a dumbbell, sensi curls
Smoke so much from stress that my brain don't rest
So I write all night to get it off of my chest
Therapeutic with the music, weren't for that, might lose it
Real recognize real and you look translucent
Rappers too emotional, be all up in they feelings
Went to give you somethin' then I'll tell you how to go get it
Wait, roll up at the back, that's a daily routine
Used to sip lean but now we see, actin' our dream
That's the way the cookie crumbles, say you gotta lay up humble
Or a bullet make you tumble, gotta watch the ones around you
[Chorus: Quelle Chris]
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Ocean's Eleven type, if we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
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