DIE OF PAIN

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Jake$wish

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Got some shit that make your eyes spin
Burn up like a furnace, Or underside of the frying pan
Beat him with the high hand
Turnt up like I’ll die here
Know you think I’m bogus but focus, Not even trying yet
I got ashes on my shorts from the ports I keep on puffing
Cup of Duchess and a blunt to keep these motherfuckers running
Up to something
No if’s or and’s or but’s, Just f*ck em
We cussing every single word like Ashton Kutcher
Here come the butcher (Benny!)
Shining sun like Devin Booker
Your homies go and rob the house while you the looker
You sweet like sugar (Pussy!)
I dropped out my mama womb nice as f*ck, twice the luck
Came to f*ck up the game and who coming up
This is Jake not Jacob
To my face is 10 blunts
Shake your crib pulling up with all the bass in my trunk
I know I crossd the line before, It don’t define me though
Come and find me bro, What I gotta hide for?
I’m back to shitting on raps just call me silo
Eyes low but my highs gone, What do I know?
Save a lie for when I die I go out on a high note
I’m so caught up in my mind, Need a blindfold
Got some shit that make your eyes spin
Burn up like a furnace, Or underside of the frying pan
Beat him with the high hand
Turnt up like I’ll die here
Know you think I’m bogus but focus, Not even trying yet
If it’s one thing I’m about
Keep a straight face when I’m out
Just to maintain my insane brain ‘fore I shout
Hear a bang bang when I lounge
Instead of tryna find it out
Keep 6 guns around the house
Point em out, Point em out
Another round, Gun him down
F*ck you mean you armed with some forces?
I’m the boss so when I call they all bring the torches
It’s bout to be a riot and I’m the one inciting it
Alabama’s finest, Bigger asshole than Simon
I look into the mirror and I see a freak
How I turned to someone I’m not supposed to be
Really wish that bitch wouldn’t have fucked over me
Now everyday I sit alone smoking weed for some relief
But my pain is dying down now
Took some shit so I could trip, Forget about my life, wow
I'm sorry for depressing shit
I’m back to talking bout killing, Just for the hell of it
Got some shit that make your eyes spin
Burn up like a furnace, Or underside of the frying pan
Beat him with the high hand
Turnt up like I’ll die here
Know you think I’m bogus but focus, Not even trying yet

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer