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Talk Much

by A Rapper Named Nati

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about

Produced by Rob Maestro

lyrics

Don’t fuck with us. You don’t want none
Don’t trust no one. So we brought guns
Know guns’ll bust when the squad come
No bumpin’ gums. We don’t talk much

I’m tryin’ get that Audemars Piguet shine
Might have to start movin’ yay across state lines
Maestro Boomin’ on the bassline
I put on weight, got the .40 on the waistline
On an all beef diet, never ate my
Words. Tell these nerds go ahead and grab a plate, I
Only serve just desserts. I don’t bake pies
In the kitchen whippin’ chickens till the cake rise
Make wine from water and it tastes fine
Told ‘em find a doctor, not the Dre kind
I replace spines when I operate mics
Do surgery and murder beats with the same knife
Have you throwin’ up blood, no gang signs
Used to hang by the school chugging St. Ides
Got the shotty for your crew in broad daylight
Leave your body in a pool of blood in plain sight

Don’t fuck with us. You don’t want none
Don’t trust no one. So we brought guns
Know guns’ll bust when the squad come
No bumpin’ gums. We don’t talk much

Don’t fuck with us. You don’t want none
Don’t trust no one. So we brought guns
Know guns’ll bust when the squad come
No bumpin’ gums. We don’t talk much

I’m tryin park the Bimmer in the driveway
Might have to start slingin’ ki’s ‘cross the tri-state
Matter fact, I need the keys to the i8
Doin’ a buck fifteen on the highway
My circle gettin’ dough like a pie plate
You don’t fit in. You’re not the right shape
Might make your face turn a nice shade of light grey
Maserati Nati, hide your body in a white Wraith. (Rolls!)
I listened to your music, got a migraine
Only way you gettin’ views is to buy plays
Ain’t no way you eatin’ food off of my plate
Put you on the evening news, raise the crime rate
We been hot since the songs were on MySpace.
Me and Rob were The Contra but time’s change
SPK All Day is the mind state
I bet they say our gang redefined great

Don’t fuck with us. You don’t want none
Don’t trust no one. So we brought guns
Know guns’ll bust when the squad come
No bumpin’ gums. We don’t talk much

Don’t fuck with us. You don’t want none
Don’t trust no one. So we brought guns
Know guns’ll bust when the squad come
No bumpin’ gums. We don’t talk much

We are not the same, I am a marksman
They can’t wash the stain out of the carpet
Spark clips, leave ya body in a tar pit
La Brea slaya’, leave the shotty on a park bench
Kamehameha for the target
Like Goku, reload two to go through your sergeant
I know dude’s who’ll roll through your Whole Foods department
and blow you from yo shoes with fo to the heart quick
I pull strings like guitar picks
Start shit, have the whole team in your apartment
March in, you won’t even hear the alarm trip
Martian, get the green and flee in my starship
Hit the scene, turn a B&E to an arson
Tony Stark shit. I’m a Marvel, no Brie Larson
Martin Luther King, “I Had a Dream” the seas parted
I seized on it. All I see is weak artists

Don’t fuck with us. You don’t want none
Don’t trust no one. So we brought guns
Know guns’ll bust when the squad come
No bumpin’ gums. We don’t talk much

Don’t fuck with us. You don’t want none
Don’t trust no one. So we brought guns
Know guns’ll bust when the squad come
No bumpin’ gums. We don’t talk much

credits

released November 15, 2019
Lyrics by G. Owen
Music by R. van Alem

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about

A Rapper Named Nati Three Rivers, Michigan

Three Rivers, MI, based hip-hop artist A Rapper Named Nati has been penning rhymes since 1996. He met Dutch producer Rob Maestro in high school, circa 2004. Fifteen years later, the pair have been anointed Self-Proclaimed Kings. (Pronounced “notty.”)

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