Lyrics:
spot
Decides to pull his gun and lets a few of them off
Missed who he's aiming for, six feet away's the door
Into St. Andrew's Hall, now the strays
spot
Decides to pull his gun and lets a few of them off
Missed who he's aiming for, six feet away's the door
Into St. Andrew's Hall, now the strays
hall shit
They prayin' on my motherfuckin' downfall bitch like a drought but
You gon' get this rain like it's May weather
G.O.O.D. Music, Ye weather
. Andrew's Hall
I get it you love Slim, but what about Matthew, dawg?
Stan, I think you need your pills, you're having a damn withdrawal
I thought you got
Juro - The Heat (Produced by Infinitee)
[Verse - Juro]
I'm bringing the fire, not maybe
This world could make you feel crazy
Work ethic never
on the midgets lickin my balls
I'm about to bust right in front of st. andrews hall
[chorus]
the pain
This s**t don’t feel right
When everybody around you
Start to change
You Know my struggles
But you don’t even understand the pain
Feel like
Laws may change but we can't erase the scares of a nation
Of children devalued and disavowed
Displaced by greed and the arrogance of manifest destiny
Hokage
Blind the new Itachi
I got hands like Neji
I save every penny
Wolf like Andrew Wiggins
I keep getting bigger
I keep persevering
All I know is grind
Frank gone
VERSE 2
Mane somebody lied to say love blind that’s fuckery
They must didn’t have no eyes booooi I skate 1st sign of suckery
You never
Backstage BellaItalian Ice
Lyrics and Music by Andrew Weiss
Backstage, Bella holds my hand, under a sign that says, for loners and lovers only
Wish
him smokey like a forest fire
Red dots on him, got him lookin' like it's monkey pox
Keep that stick beside me like I'm blind with a cane (ahuh)
And once
Patri oh Patri. Sweet as chocolate cake.
You're so natural that you've got to be a fake
Soledad, walks the hall, there's twenty men behind
The boys
as close to the game as a gun and holster
No sir, my shine is a flash I blind too much exposure
Its over, drank enough I almost lost composure
The games your
chuckin' outside the St. Augustine's purple parish hall?
Don't bring 'em up if you can't put 'em down
And you know I can't
in our hands until our hands go nummy
By the way i want a virgo chick thats finna come correct
Telepathic neuralink type shit
Thats how we connect
eliminator
A litter of alliterative phrases
Dealin’ with baby making spaces
On a case by case basis
And maybe chase a few Chases to maintain homostasis
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