Lyrics:
You used to never treat me right
Every night you wanna fight
You yell at everything in sight
You wanted me as a white knight
All the shit I've done
reflect that
I ain't one of these new wave dons
I don’t wanna be the hardest out
Nowadays I’m influenced by lupe’ songs
Substance in abundance
And if you
Never stop that mental block, so I'm tryin' to get across it
If you want those white lines we sellin' them dentals floss
The fiends outside are shootin'
mad and wanna scrap
We stay mad about, ten minutes then it's like back on the bike
To play hide and go get it with the younger hoes by the bungaloes
Watching like angels
White clouds go passing by
Hovering, cover me
Watching like angels
Life is strange
Where is my soul
Can I be invisible to everyone
Hold
Leave the beat all duppied like me
Six figures on my new white tee
Right please, listen to me YGs (listen)
Until you clean your Ps
You will never find
loved by the Devil
Blow your trumpets, Gabriel!
Call partners for this crime!
Because night will end so soon
Sing the song to farewell our brother moon!
else would sing this song with different words
I think I will write to Kevin Barnes, and then our kids will learn about the stars
(Ooh, and I don't
you needed
When it blast...they must move
You just proved you're hard like L in Krush Groove
And songs started to drop - Ain't nobody start
Uh!
Where you from? I'm from the A hoe
Said I'm out, been bucking on bustas and gettin that pay hoe
Our minds is paid for, hit the blocks like Lego
nah
Take this line off the song
Put it on a bumper sticker
Billboard blanket statement guilty by association
Black and white gave grey
page
The victim´s of life their eyes full of rage
Now nothing is sacred and anything goes
And our values are set
By the way the wind blows
´Cause
with the younger hoes by the bungaloes
Then switch to playin ding dong ditch, when that gets
Old and too cold to hack it, threw on a bomber jacket
You
blind by Wall street banking
Worse than at St. Mark's and Franklin
Thanks to stickup kids in ties and white collars
Who worship the almighty dollar, so
to a bomb
Humanity is gone, smoked up in a gravity bong
by a democrat republican Cheech and Chong
Immortal Technique, you never heard me preachin' a song
and leave y'all
Lames runnin' for sure
But I prefer to crash when
Niggas hurt for cash
When they cut small slabs for
The hard white to last tell everybody
along, the grey from black and white
Waves of despair, an ocean of desolation
Fighting for air, my swan song be done
You can relight my fire…
Dive
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