Lyrics:
Minuets turned to hours
Motivated by the money
A passion for the power
Cowards talked very seldom acted
Bitches with nothing
To do but hate on staks shit
feels so right...
True by nature and by her style
The bottomless pit and soothing smile
Rise in so gentle yet strong and precise
Agitation calm through
sit and live in my shell
By myself every night I burn bright
In this pit of hell
That manifested with these rhymes I
Write to contain the blaze
exit pits on the stop (cool)
We cuttin' a cop, original Don Dada
My papa's a zombie, when I tour I feel like Booty Talk 17
I been walking dead for too
moments
Minuets turned to hours
Motivated by the money
A passion for the power
Cowards talked very seldom acted
Bitches with nothing to do but hate
Knocking pictures off your wall, when I pass by your house
Know your spouse is your trojan, if you love her than get her
Cause she stuck on a G, like a god
up/
I been fed up as a bitch, feelin setup by life’s shit/
Medicated in a whip, head to Vegas wit the click/
Not that famous or too rich, still
Sometimes I feel like I've been infiltrated
Mama told me I'm too related
By niggas I'm often hated
The reefer keeps me sedated
I've waded through
on my heart
Boy got mo' ice, than a W march
Bout to knock my trunk off, with this shit down South
Knocking pictures off your wall, when I pass by your
On silent wings through the darkness of aeons he comes
driven by bloodlust and craving for unholy passion
ecstatic for wicked slave abuse he enters
the tar-pit
It's strange, like chemical drips down Aspirin lane
Tobacco and Shane, me and Mary-Jane
We all got a clutch that can shift us to want
It's
Knocking pictures off your wall, when I pass by your house
Know your spouse is your trojan, if you love her than get her
Cause she stuck on a G, like a god
When you look in the mirror,
Does the image you see reflect the latest fashion?
May the victors' validity be measured?
By who has the longest
to move streets
Time Frame
Now or never power measured by violent terror
Allowing a sense of the vibe that ties it together
As clever interventors found
imprisoned like they put me in a box
Imma boss, all my hobbies include paying into stocks
Writing raps, making beats, pit maneuvering a cop
And then terrorize
make a living out of a passion that's erupting
When i write, my hands, are fucking steady like a marksman
So the smallest mistakes affect hitting
on climbing that mountain
I'll rise to the top on my own
Rise to the top by my own means
With the homies outta OP, low-key
Workin' so hard that I don't sleep,
We stay locked and loaded
We will not be broken
No more locks on our doors
You can freely go in
Take a seat by the altar and pledge devotion
You are
finish up with sharp knives
The fall guy, all my life been clawed by
Demons with their hellish fit's
And hellishness befall thy
As blood crisscrossed
Hopping out on feet Passion Pit I Take a walk
Machine gun stay by my side like I’m Megan Fox
Them boys playin’ air guitar bitch I really rock
Spody
waitress at The Pit
Sometimes on the weekends they'd ride jetskis
And they'd take a little trailer to the river
They'd bring along a T.V. to watch Rick Dees
Knocking pictures off your wall, when I pass by your house
Know your spouse is your trojan, if you love her than get her
Cause she stuck on a G, like a god
.jpg/300px-Passion_Pit_(2013).jpg "Passion Pit")
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