Exquisite*

By Trippie Redd

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Lyrics from Snippets


[Intro]

Good morning

Being still, real still

You'll notice a subtle silence

Hopefully in the morning, you’ll notice a rising, golden sun

A sound of birds intermingle with the warmth of the sun's rays

There's a certain call, an eerie exquisite near silent

A sense of power of an invisible scene


[Chrous: Trippie Redd]

Yeah, everything exquisite, I get straight to business (To business), yeah

Flexing just like fitness, play that bitch like tennis (Okay, yeah)

Yeah, I feel like a menace, bitch, I'm just like Dennis (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Bitches bird, pigeons, I run up my digits (Yeah, my digits, yeah, yeah)

Yeah, hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Okay), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah, ah)

Bah, bah, bah, bah

Bah, bah, bah


[Verse 1: Trippie Redd]

(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

We'll up that fire (Fire), we will take your life (Life)

With a suit and tie, seven-five 'till I die (Die, yeah, yeah)

Nigga don't want beef, then slide, talk down on the guys (Guys)

Niggas pussy, niggas sweet, just like momma's pie (Yeah, uh, pie)

Niggas hella scared when it's fuckin' time to die (Yeah, bah, yeah)

Homicide, bitch, do or die, nigga, it's you and I

No Beyonce, I'm beyond safe with the iron (Yeah, yeah)

Hanging with them B's, nigga know we in a fucking hive

Don't you run from me, nigga, ain't nowhere to fuckin' hide

This ain't hide and seek, nigga, run and you gon fuckin' die

[Chrous: Trippie Redd & Shootem Up]

Yeah, everything exquisite, I get straight to business (To business), yeah

Flexing just like fitness, play that bitch like tennis (Okay, yeah)

Yeah, I feel like a menace, bitch, I'm just like Dennis (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Bitches bird, pigeons, I run up my digits (Yeah, my digits, yeah, yeah)

Yeah, hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Okay), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah, ah)

Bah, bah, bah, bah

Bah, bah (Huh?), bah


[Verse 2: Shootem Up]

What's that shit you claimin'? (Huh?), I ain't never heard of that

If we ain't wearin' red (Woo), probably wearin' hella black (Yeah)

Oh, they 'bout to rob? (Rob?) Bitch, we got hella racks (Ha)

Baby, is you stupid? (Huh?) You know we ain't doin' that

Every day we fly (Fly), I guess it's a ritual

Got her on her knees, she said she was spiritual

Never calling 911, I'm with the one-four

We be at your front door, with poles that hold 3-0

Swag with the gat and match

If you sellin' Cs, bitch, I got a pumpkin patch, buy a match (Ha)

[Chrous: Trippie Redd & Shootem Up]

Yeah, everything exquisite, I get straight to business (To business), yeah (Ha)

Flexing just like fitness, play that bitch like tennis (Okay, yeah)

Yeah, I feel like a menace, bitch, I'm just like Dennis (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Bitches bird, pigeons, I run up my digits (Yeah, my digits, yeah, yeah)

Yeah, hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Okay), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah), uh

Hit a nigga head (Head), collision (Yeah, ah)

Bah, bah, bah, bah

Bah, bah, bah...