Intro: Uh, chya, uh, uh Dedicated too, this dedicated too Fuck it
Verso 1: Uh, I got a pocket full of posies Some devil with a pitchfork keep talkin' like he know me I'm psychopathic, low key, my hyperactive dome piece Get no sleep, I'll as fuck, the hospitals seem so weak I stood before an angel as he told me bout the glory Put me in a room of people, how the fuck could I be lonely I only get money, these lables tryna clone me Uh, my thoughts get heavy, hit the ground and crack the concrete So, I try to keep em' in my head It's sad to see when everything that you believe is dead Word to heavy d, and rest in peace to all that come and pass Life is good sometimes, but it just doesn't last A bunch of tracks, you see this mic is like my punchin' bag Rock n' roll, drugs and cash, you softer than a bubble bath Suck ass mothafucka, muthafucka's venom and Doper than the shit that put chris tucker in dead presidents Desert rhymes, homie, ridin' beats, I'm on a camel I'm way too hot to handle, life a beach, I brought my sandals Haha, you want a war? I got a lot of ammo You ain't a soldier cause you rockin' cammo Young rambo, hundred million fans though And I do it big, you a ipod nano Fire on wax, look like I rock candles Yeah you got a show, but you ain't on my channel
That's hbo bitch, you gotta pay for that Hahaha, your channels free, haha I'm gunna fuckin' kill you Uhh, imax shit motherfucker Yeah, suck my dick
Verso 2: Hey, ayo, I'm bout to start gambilin' with ambien I'm dutch smokin', that's a strike But fuck bowlin', I could tear a pin of maryland See, I'm american, apparently it's damagin' To be in front of cameras in your underwear with marilyn Monroe, look at dumb hoes who want to much dough And come close to have you straight trippin' when you jump rope Don't rock the love boat, this business fuckin' cut throat And it's gunna crack is you just paint the wall with one coat Rooms filled with blunt smoke, peep me through the fog These rappers who be hatin' probably need to get a job See, me I'm with my squad, gettin' money, livin' comfortable I know a couple hoes who model, but they ugly though Fuck a toast, y'all is fuckin' broke, cut ya throat Judgin' me is nothin' dope, boy you lyin' under oath God made the world, why did man make the scriptures? And if he created lennon, why'd he go and make a hitler? I could take a photo, but I'd rather paint a picture Of the one lawrence fishburne, we'll shoot up all you hipsters I'm from pittsburgh, that's black and gold If my skin gets filled up, I'mma tat my soul Runnin' out of paper, writin' on my hand Hundred thousand haters writin' bout my jams Want a number one independent album? I'm your man I'mma hit preme and leave you all right where you stand
Digo y. - digopanda
Confirmação de Idade
Esta letra possui restrição de idade, você deve ter mais que 18 anos para acessá-la.
Compositores: Eric Allan Dan (Eric A Dan) (BMI), Jeremy Kulousek (Big Jerm) (ASCAP), Malcolm James Mc Cormick (BMI), Richard Pegue, Zachary Raymond Vaughan (Sayez) (ASCAP)Editor: Sayezbeatsn'at Inc (ASCAP)Administração: Velocity Future Collections (ASCAP)ECAD verificado obra #43340194 em 20/Mai/2024 com dados da UBEM