Lyrics IXEXI - Inferno (Ft. Elijah Yo & Isaac Puerile)

Fuckin' good
Aye, Hol' up

Everybody wanna be 'bout that 'till the beat stops
Then they all sweet like pie is
I was in the hood like engines
Tryna get good with the weight like Tyson
Who the fuck try and test me
Cuz no, Puerile good with the writing
Mario Bro good with the pipe and
Still one up on these cunts, no lying (Look)

I don't gotta say too much but believe, when I talk it I walk it
Man, I got more balls than a ball pit
Wanna be the same but you're all shit (Aye)
This ain't the life of just anybody, brother, I don't endorse it
Listen to them rap and I get exhausted
Can't figure why they don't forfeit?

Yeah, these days I gotta tame myself
From saying things that I may have felt
Strap on me like a safety belt
Actually, I gotta play the field
Way the game is built
Tried to shoot but I bit the bullet
Stickin' to the script of music
Lift the roof and hit the stu' and feelin' ruthless
Hid the truth and gotta dumb it down for the fakes

I'm puffin' shit that's imported (Bitches clueless, ha)
Ripping and dipping off in my Jordan's
Not talking if they're informants
Take me to court I'll tell 'em I'm foreign
Miseducated like Lauren
School tried teaching me I ignored 'em
Like, why would I listen to someone who dreams of a Ford
But they can't afford it?

We rise from the B side where I reside Westide of the Eastside
No Bondi, there ain't no sea side
But waves gon' crash if they all gon' D ride
Fucking up beats since knee high
Wore in my jeans, no Levi
Worlds for the taking, it's all in the reach
Please, guy, know it's all gonna be mine

Check the drip
The neck and wrist is more lit than a bitch in the exorcist
I get to the bag and I get to the whip
And invest in the west, we the next in this
And I ain't gonna fall, nah
I ain't gonna trip, nah, I ain't even stressed a bit
I'm blessed to spit
That's why whenever they hear the boy on it
They get the shits (Uh)

Fuck you talking who the best is?
Tryna make my mark like, check this
The beef shit don't get fixed
Like a pothole in the West Syd
Oh, God I need a heat check like the three wet
Oh, god they lack respect
Talking loud homie?
That's some cheap shit

Puerile in the club, on stage
We gon' turn up quick with the 8's in the air
And your man hate me
'Cause your girl rate me
And you mad 'cause she now say "yeah!" (Yeah)
Bro, life ain't fair, I'm a cunt and I don't play even
Tell 'em all that it's Puerile season
Fuck up a beat then I dip, no feelings

And when life gives me lemons
I'ma make Limoncello
Got a bitch that tryna' fuck around
And when we fuck around she call me Bello
Matter fact tell her hello
She was doing everything I said so
And when I get to the bag I'm doing the dash
Tryna ball like Melo

These rap cunts rookies
One bar, tell the cunt come book me
Pax on the beat, motherfucker, what's goodie?