Lyrics:
fucked by a stick of dynamite
You're weak nigga, you bout to die up in your sleep
The overlord of rap will never meet defeat
Pain and agony, I don't touch
fade away
Shit, last night it still hurts but why
Tell me did I make the wrong kinda choice
By letting go the right kinda boy
You were the sun in
fear had become my go-to, where the Father of Heaven was actually supposed to be. I felt dead.
One day I woke up by a voice gently whispering to my
and the bruises on her knees,
You would swear she'd fought with buccaneers on all the seven seas.
For its up the stairs and down the stairs and in the room and out.
Let me tell y’all what this must be
A couple keys wrapped under
The Christmas tree
A few pan handling, black Mandarins
One off a Candler
Don't let waters of caution remove you
Don't let the fire of saints compel
Don't let the lack of their spirit blind your life
'Cause soon it's all
Naw I ain’t a saint
Not gonna play by your rules ain’t the saint
Outta my mind
You could call that insane
Suicide doors stunted on the fifth plane
LSD
Tryna chase that feeling, replace bad feelings
With days wrapped up in the moments like this
Tryna chase that feeling, erase those ceilings
Inside I'm
I am losing
Control when speak to you
Just know that I'M turning blue
I'm suffocating
My words are Wrapped around my neck
I don't know where i'm
blinded by the pain
That I got up all inside
Been a victim to ways
Boy that traffic, It ain't light
Said I can't really escape
From the killers in my mind
the saint
I'm counting days
That little foreign got a lotta shit to say
How I was born bitch we are not the same
I notice who lies
Who fucks up and who rides
niggas might just throw em up
Keep 'em close nigga better keep them blues folded up
(Saint Lo)
We gon slide
Tonight
We gon ride
We might
Tell them niggas
can ride that cowgirl, you can ride that surfboard
Up in it for so long I pay rent like a landlord
My fragrance by Versace, hers by Chanel
Baby got
spite headband, marked dead man
Innermost thoughts locked, dangling from a cross (what)
The hotter the heart, the harder - wrapped up
Crucified with my
the night
See them and fuck up they life
Send them the funk if they like
Then come and send them wrapped up in the trunk and they like
Couple bands in
like a saint, by your own description
And you buying up the drinks on your own prescription
When I tell it like it is, then your tone is switching
to have to do this
My blood is blue and I'm cold too
Biting off heads in the bayou
Ain't no god I ain't no saint
Immobilized I'm wrapped in chains
Feeling
frappuccino
All wrapped up in a sheet
On the beach like a burrito
And she don't need a filter
Already a pretty face
Not an app that need updates
Skip losers
you bring home to your mother
She looks good in blue jeans even better under covers
She's a devil in bed between the sheets
Ask her if she's a saint
Scream and yell till i'm blue
Curse your soul when will you come back to me?
Have you gone to the moon or the corner saloon
At your rack, at your room
till I ain’t sick
In my lane or will I whip a spaceship
Fly guy
Getting sky high
Open up enough for me to skydive
Slowing up enough for me to ride by
beyond qualified
Multiplying the dollar sign, the grind is real it's Palestine
My sidekick came from Columbine
That fly shit came from Saint Laurent
seem really
Quite the thing to do, no.
Think I'll drink up a little more wine, to ease my worried mind.
And walk down on the street, and leave my blues
seem really
Quite the thing to do, no
Think I'll drink up a little more wine
To ease my worried mind
And walk down on the street
And leave my blues
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