Cult Sag 616

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Black Josh] Holy shit, roll me a spliff I'm too high for hand eye coordination Cold sagging, toe tagging the corpses in my basement They're the fertiliser I use to grow the crops I got waiting I got cockroaches mating and rats raving under my floorboards While I'm blazing on my couch smoking a nine bar to a half ounce Spitting over sixteens in your cypher like I can't count Making it rain like I pulled the harp out They call me the Great Ape, smoking grade A, grade H, break face and some OG kane it tastes great Call me King Kush, bow to your heiness My loud gives teams tonight-ish Gold finger, the touch of Midas Moving food 'til I give you nigga writing Adidas trainers, surrounded by vagina Bitch asked me for a draw but had cold saw and I denied her You can't take draws but I can supply ya, with the Cali kush if you got a tenner Someone with a fiver [Chorus: Black Josh] Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa I'm cult sagging yeah, I'm cult sagging Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa I'm cult sagging yeah, I'm cult sagging [Verse 2: Milkavelli] I'm in thot mansion, them hoes creeping I'm so high in Cult Mountain, my nose bleeding I toe tag 'em for no reason and I've been cold sagging since cold sagging had no meaning No sleep 'til I'm O.D'ing, it's snow season so the cold makes me rush.. No Ian But O.E'ing, that's some malt liquor Now get some Rizla, throw some OG in Cash rules everything around me, CREAM, get the money 'til I'm feeling like I'm Saudi Like, cash rules everything around me, CREAM, get the money, do a hundred whip it said I'm outy I wrote this on the Route 66, riding shotgun with a pair of blue lipstick kids Doing whippets in a German whip Speaking of German whips, that's pretty apt since I merked your bitch [Chorus: Black Josh] Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa I'm cult sagging yeah, I'm cult sagging Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa I'm cult sagging yeah, I'm cult sagging [Verse 3: Lee Scott] Skull fits, wear this BLAH bucket I was gonna say something that meant something but nah fuck it I'm cold sag running on the spot, bitch please And it's not a pretty one with cherry's on the top I'm sitting on me balls like two space hoppers Lounging, on the front yard while the dogs are growling At the cops surrounding, downing Vodka frowning Drowning in a puddle blood Thug, idiot, several ciggies lit, in his lips I'm stingey, I don't even give a shit A scumbag like mmm, when I'm guzzling Stellas I like F words and neck birds in front of their fellas Looking lifeless as the moonlights hitting me Too right I smoke it through like Hickory One man gang bang, bitches round and neck 40's Say me name more time than Rick says Morty's [Chorus: Black Josh] Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa I'm cult sagging yeah, I'm cult sagging Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa Cult sagging, straight cult sagging laa I'm cult sagging yeah, I'm cult sagging