song lyrics / THe KiDDs* / Private Isle, Toni's Cold Feet* lyrics  | FRen Français

Private Isle, Toni's Cold Feet* lyrics

Performer THe KiDDs*

Private Isle, Toni's Cold Feet* song lyrics by THe KiDDs* official

Private Isle, Toni's Cold Feet* is a song in English

Every drop, recuperate the funds
And I'll still profit even if like half the tracks are duds
Apply the face mask, the leaves and sticks, and insulated mud
They have you figured out, and calculated like some fiscal pay stubs
I don't have to enter green rooms to be on the radar
Adam sent me porn of tow mater, ask me why I hate him
It's either this or that, I'm stretching thin like choosing ultimatums
You were MIA, you're a 0 like the Jayson Tatum
Pearly black interior the whip, like it is papaya
She's worried 'bout my priors, I takeoff before she feels the fire
We drift apart like screeching sounds and burning tires
You went out of style, like Pushing P, but you pushing mild
Take these shoes and walk a mile
In my little subset, nobody can compete, I'm on a private isle
I got my bitch and papa johns exclusively speed dial
Goal driven, like a crossbar, couple posts on wheels, archive them
I told Adam we should stockpile
The summer drought is coming, yet the songs are plentiful
I keep it dense like Mike Pence, or kids off edibles
And something like the family in red, I'm so incredible
And you're a dead man walking if you caught inside my reticle
My pseudonym is Lester, short for Les Vegetables
Debated much, like pregnancies or a couple kicks to testicles
And by the powers vested in the Eskimos
A cold front is nothing but a puny test
Hear me out,
Listen to my testimony
My raps will run on sentence
So I'm here to judge jabroni
I sympathize for Ollie
Cause of what happened to Toni
I sympathize for Toni
Cause maybe he got some cold feet
It could hit like anybody
And I mean anybody
I gained a frozen mouth so I could spit out blizzards, buddy
I leave you like my 21, track's super runny
And Richie still run 20, running laps
So its circles I'm still running
Ovals I'm in plenty
Be it henna or it's Henny
I've done like too many
Your ass curious as cats
And I've just sliced like 80
And I just like the 80s
I was born and out of times
These are cannon fodder rhymes
I gave my daughter candies
Now she blasts shit all the time
And these are way to time
So I am not one to keep a line
Lyrics copyright : legal lyrics licensed by Lyricfind.
No unauthorized reproduction of lyric.
Writers: Adam Kabongo, Olivier Kubicki
Copyright: O/B/O DistroKid

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