Correction Paroles Rider par K21

Featuring(s) : Rhymefest

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Paroles

[Adam Slutsky & K21]
Ah, Mr 21? It's just K
Here's your green room per your rider
All right, all right, cool
Uh, there's bottled water (okay) and potato chips
(All right) And there's bitches (all right, someone get this guy outta here)

[K21 & Rhymefest]
Whaddup Fest? They want us to rhyme tonight
Well K, them ma'f*ckers better get the rider right
Well, first up, I need some vodka with lime on ice
But not a cup worth, I need a lifetime supply
Five-six but I'm eating like I'm twice the size
So I want tempura chicken with a side of rice
A shot of Malört, Fest, then we all afloat
Two ma'f*ckers rockin' like Hall and Oates
Till then I get blunted with rastas
And when police come then I run with no justice
The bread of the house, call me 'Pane di Casa'
Just give us the bread, they can end the discussion

They better get the rider right
Or we ain't gonna riot tonight
I swear I was finna stage dive tonight
Look man, I was finna start a drunken fight
Get the rider right, get the rider right
Get live tonight, get the rider right
Like Rider, get your f*ckin' life
Right uh, get it f*ckin' right

[Rhymefest]
I want the yellow M'n'Ms with the nuts out
I want five bad hoes with their butts out
Backstage, we all drunk and drugged out
Who the let the ugly groupies in? Get the f*ck out!
If you wanna see a show that's outta sight
I want a smoke machine with a lot of lights
Oh God, niggas better get my rider right
Or I'ma swing on 'em like Peter Parker with the spider bite
K, I wanna show the crowd all I am
I wanna dance to a Michael Jackson hologram
But Rhymefest, that's like five-hundred-fifty grand
They got fifty-thousand motherf*cker in the stands
I don't understand (Here's your cocaine, Mr Fest)
Where the hell is my weed and my M'n'Ms?
I ain't a guy that's hard to get along with
Rock a song with, the show ain't right, I postpone it

[K21 & Rhymefest]
Puffin on somethin' like nothin', stay crushin'
A rapper that's cheesy like Queso De Papa's
It's effortless, easy, I flex till they're dust
And with Fest on the cut, all the heads know what's up man
Man, f*ck paper cups, we gon' fill up a tub
If I'm dead by tomorrow we livin' it up
Break a leg out there, I walk on a crutch
My bitch is Italian, my blunt is a Dutch
I spit automatic, come through on the clutch
The rider, what's in it? You f*ckin' it up

[Rhymefest]
Get the rider right

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