Mandevillain (Explicit)-Erick The Architect
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Mandevillain (Explicit) - Erick The Architect

Lyrics by:Erick Elliott

Composed by:Erick Elliott/Kaelin Ellis

Produced by:Kaelin Ellis

Yeah tell you somethin' this ain't luck I'm bonafide

You shoot it down oh well at least a nigga tried

Two fingers up we push that ********to the side

This ain't enough we goin' up you tryna slide

Tell you somethin' this ain't luck I'm bonafide

Bonafide

You shoot it down oh well at least a nigga tried

A nigga tried

Two fingers up we push that ********to the side

To the side

This ain't enough we goin' up you tryna slide

Slide

All my nigga 'bout it talkin' 'bout we catchin' vibes

Last time I checked I'm earnin' millions off of mines

Sell my soul to someone in this world I rather starve

Armani suit lit cigar Bottega boot

The smells of gasoline'll fill the booth Future Proof

Future Proof

Marni suit lit cigar Bottega boot

The smells of gasoline'll fill the booth

Future Proof

I'm bout to link my niggas and they know me man I never care

But they got the good speakers and you can smoke in here

You play your politicians you be snitchin' like you Paul Revere

Man I love this rappin' ****I hope you never disappear

Okay

I was still a kid I pulled my first rhymes from thin air

Skinny nigga but believe that Biggie really brought me here

Uh-huh

Inspired by The Foo fighters if you quit then you tired

And you liars could get a whole drum and a new wire

Blood in my hands

The wrong nigga to get caught in a jam with

I don't understand how we can defeat this famine too many starvin'

Untap these ruthless artists dispelled these Reaganomics

Too much champagne make you vomit

I'm at the peak funny rappers at my feet

Only accurate if you can say you mastered what you teach

Let's go

How I break bread make sure them killers always stay fed

Patience brought me up the ladder where we shake hands

Got damn

Easy money foreign touchin' fake fans

Got damn

Sit on dirty money you won't stand a chance in my lane

The octane blood in my hands mostly

Only became associates when they hesitated to toast me

They movin' closely they motives salty

The game encroached me stand on my own feet

The angels watchin' over

I was designed to make a meal but now my cup is spillin' over

And over and over

Armani suit lit cigar Bottega boot

The smells of gasoline'll fill the booth Future Proof

Marni suit lit cigar Bottega boot

The smells of gasoline'll fill the booth

Future Proof

I've never been here before

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