Spit Syndicate – 2042 COME UP (with lyrics)

2042 COME UP

Lyrics by Jimmy Nice & Nick Lupi, original beat by Bryson Tiller.
Video by Entropico – entropico.com.au




Before i get the time to think bout what i should say,
Let’s play, let’s play,
Before i get the time to think bout what i should say,
I’ma just say it, I’m at the top of my game,
Top of the morning to you and yours to you and yours,
See me and mine keep it open plan,
as you mature see fewer doors, don’t fuck around,
I’m hell advanced, you’re flow come to mind when i mop the floor,
That’s a fire verse, April 1st, Trick, Damn i make the flow switch,
I’ve been on way too long to be messing with the when where what why
No sir fuck what you feel, We stole pizza out of Bob Dylan’s fridge
While off our lids in the hollywood hills, back to the Roosey,
Stayed with some girls that don’t like lining up and they’re holding a plate,
Caroline cancelled her shift in the morning i’m leaving at 8,
Down to go 48 straight.


They call me the wolf of Wallace St,
I’m on a streak,
Seats in the partners’ box,
going hard, when the markets soft,
Y’all cooked the books, but your margins off,
Tryna get the day rate jumping,
Cos we got a pay day coming,
if you ain’t bringing no plate to the function,
You ain’t got a place at the luncheon,
You won’t taste nothing,
That’s what I tell them,
Got an uptown girl and she say I’m hot then cold like Melbourne,
Her temper short like Selwyn,
Cos I meant to call but I seldom,
If the Molly good, then we off the wall,
On the floor, like Meldrum,
Good to see an OG back on his feet,
Last few years been a cat on heat,
Scale the back fence, land on my feet,
I’m focused now, so its back to the beats,
Made it out I guess, that’s a relief,
Cos the game is fucked up, too many dudes punching,
above their weight, or when they out late drunken,
Either case, its just a waste of something,
Trust, it’s lights out when release day cometh
And I’m out.


Fuck that,
Back to the house like i left the iron on, uh,
I’m feeling myself like i’m drying off, snakes in the backyard gets the ridealong,
This the triathlon, i’m on the road, on a wave and i’m running shit,
Champagne James spill Mumm on tits,
Other bands’ rooms is where we gets the rider from,
You don’t wanna drink shit dipshit, i be on my bullshit big shit,
Obese kid shit, signed contracts on the dotted line,
Like i’m out racing for pinkslips, Whole scene littered with some
“I’m gonna do it” Came to it and they never really did shit,
Some would say that we should runaway,
Ain’t got an MBA but i know bad business, man.

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