Tekst piosenki
[Ken Carson:]
Bitch, this the xperiment
Cover my ears when you talk, I ain’t hearin’ it
And I cover up my ears when you talk, I ain’t hearin’ it
And I cover up my ears when you talk, girl, I ain’t hearin’ it
As long as I got that yop stick, I ain’t fearin’ shit
As long as I got my chopstick, I’m gon’ use ’em like a Asian
Black bitch say she mixed, what? Yeah, she Blasian
Kick in your door, woah, woah, we brought them Ks in
Shawty on go, pass to bro, yeah, I’m not
You not celibate, put that on everything you got
You not celibate, put that on everything you got
Bitch, you not celibate, put that on everything you got
5 take a trap, fourth of Sprite, then remix it (What the fuck?)
Pourin’ up the drank every day, you not consistent (What the fuck?)
I pour up that drank every day, niggas not consistent (What? What the fuck?)
I pour up that drank every day (What the fuck? Yeah, yeah)
Throw it in the air, hundreds (Yeah)
I’ma make her dance for money (Yeah)
She suck the dick, got her crashin’ out
They don’t know what she doin’, she just pass it out (Yeah)
You can’t leave red-handed, I still run over them hoes you be askin’ ’bout (Yeah)
Too much shit in my crib, can’t fit it in a safe, where the fuck I’ma stash the guap? (Yeah)
Too much shit in my crib, he still stashin’ out the shoebox (Yeah)
Everywhere I go, it’s all eyes on me, like I’m Tupac (Yeah)
I’m xperiment, but your ho gon’ flock when cartunez drop (Yeah)
Can’t beef on the Internet, these niggas cartoon opps (Yeah)
Told the bitch, „I ain’t into that,” you can leave that to your other nigga (Yeah)
I ain’t stressin’ ’bout the pussy, I want figures (Yeah)
Front page magazine, you can get your issue (Yeah)
I’ll send you my location before I hit ya
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (What the fuck?)
Yeah, yeah (What the fuck?)
Yeah, yeah
[Playboi Carti:]
Uh, four in the drank, I’ma pass out
Ride with the dually, my cash— uh
Ridin’ in the dually, my cash out
Uh, hit that— uh, hit that jackpot
Come in your spot like, yeah, huh
My young nigga with me, he mad hot
Something ’bout me, pop out mad bosses
Still goin’ crazy, I ain’t worried about it
Still goin’ crazy, we ain’t worried about it
Still goin’ crazy, we ain’t worried
Still goin’ crazy, we ain’t worried
Still goin’ crazy, we ain’t worried
Still goin’ crazy, still goin’ crazy
Still goin’ crazy, we ain’t worried
Bitch, I’m fly like a bird (Yeah), I just gave him a 9 (Why?)
All of my bitches, they with me, uh, I’m ’bout to have a ménage (Fire)
Put ’em on the news
Put a lot of hoes on news real quick, I’m talkin’ ’bout, „Ooh” (Yeah, yeah)
All these hoes, they pussy, they don’t know what to do
YVL my set, yeah, trim set, you know this shit forever
My diamonds, yeah, Eliantte, baguette, baguette (Yeah)
I roll with 5s, yeah, more Bs on my neck (Woah)
Serena, Venus, play with them racks, I’m on your neck
I can’t get played, poppin’ my shit with no regrets
Major league, Celine my jeans, I’m a vet’
I was born to bleed, y’all niggas pussy, ah, yeah
What you see in me? Bitch, I’m a hustler, I don’t care (Wow)
Pussy, money, weed, we havin’ tons of it over here
It’s omertà, G, they gon’ have to kill me, put me in the chair
[Ken Carson:]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (What the fuck?)
Yeah, yeah (What the fuck?)
Yeah, yeah
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Analiza piosenki
Reszta tekstu to nagromadzenie typowych dla gatunku motywów: przepych (biżuteria, ubrania od znanych marek, pieniądze), używki (alkohol, imprezowanie), broń i podteksty przemocy, a także poczucie nietykalności i sławy porównywane do znanych postaw kultury (np. Tupac). Całość ma bardziej charakter luźnego, chaotycznego flow budującego atmosferę niż spójnej narracji – to muzyka stawiająca na brzmienie, powtarzalność i „vibe”, nie na przekaz fabularny czy głębsze przesłanie.












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