Lyrics:
hard (uh-huh)
Trust in God 'cause you's about to catch a bullet scar (yeah)
I give a fuck where you from, who you be with
Keep this a secret, right by
bounce like trampolines, when I be blowing the fiends to pieces
Hymn em like sewing machines and Jesus
When the shadows of the barrel pointing out my boy'
on the mic live as can be what's good y'all I'm The ZYG.
(Chorus)
Kid Creole was the first to say yes yes y'all. In the days before Curtis blow was fresh
to find out the master's name.
Down at the end, round by the corner.
Close to the edge, just by a river.
Seasons will pass you by.
I get up, I get down
rose, my everything
Crawl out from under the overdose
Plainclothes watching so I gotta keep my secret close
Timecode, run it back
Wake up in an ambulance
to is bark before I fight
Before I take you down, might as well be polite
[Chorus]
Hear 'em say, oh my God, here he come, here he come
Hear 'em say, oh
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Maybe I'm just a machine
Lately, I just don't feel anything
This used to feel like a dream
Now I'm thrown out by
Caves for eyes,
With a cliff for a jaw
That would go up 'n down,
And whenever it did,
He'd puff out some dust,
And hack up a boulder
(HACK!)
Hack
to be cleared up. It had no human personality as it were. It was just a map reference that would be passed and forgotten by the end of the day. Inside,
[Mr.Cheeks ]
Yo we come through like bulls nigga take two puffs and pass
Nigga watch your back once you talk out your ass
I back up 3 80 and my
gather all the pieces
So the world may be increased
In simulation jubilation
For the deceased...
Spray-on clothes and diamond jaws
Wrinkles smoothed by
on the clock, come ready to be off
I'm riding through the city
1: 20 on the clock
I'm breaking the highway code
Fuck the traffic light
I ain't glad it's night
to find out the master's name.
Down at the end, round by the corner.
Close to the edge, just by a river.
Seasons will pass you by.
I get up, I get down
a term already fixed
On the day when it comes
No person shall speak except by Allah's leave
Some among them will be wretched
And some will be blessed
know the pen is underrated
So I treat it like a play (Like a play)
'Cause I be cuttin' up like I
Made decorations out of paper (Out of paper)
Homie, let
Out of the dark he found a road
To quietly walk alone
Out of the days he learned to know the call comes after the
Out of the dark he found a road
leaving me no choice, but to raise these three kids all by myself
I will not wait for you
A gift
To come home
I threw the candles out
Left your food
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Maybe I'm just a machine
Lately, I just don't feel anything
This used to feel like a dream
Now I'm thrown out by
that walked
They attact us !
They wiped us out !
Journalist:
Machines ?
Artillery man:
Fighting machines !
Picking up men and bashing 'em against trees
throw him down
to the bottom of a well, so that he will be picked up by some caravan of travelers
They said, O our father, why do you not trust us with
problem child
Problem ta the devil and his child meow
Any my daughter Psalm a child of God
Ooh and my wifey ga be by my side yea
Ima bring her out no need
Inspired by true crimes
It's not a game, it's nothing to play with
Turn it off then come back the next day
It's here to stay struggle that is
I'm so
ugh
We flow for about five years ago
When we lost a down
But I had fifth of the game
But I knew that one day
That sooner or later it got to come
gonna be there when shit go down to the wire?
Always been myself they look at me like I'm a outlier
I kept it a buck with you but I found out you a liar
Discuss these come out come down fade out be gone reconstructed by secret machines by 120 days Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In