Lyrics:
scribble
Nose ring piff, sublime, dripping
OD shit I defy all living
Fueled by a passion that my arts driven
Vision, vivid I invite all ridicule
You pity
Remember who you are
Damn
What's the point of proving all this shit, when I don't even approve of my damn self
No one gets my mental
Main reason why I
when I pull my strap
The nigga that fucked all the hoes y'all be tryna mack
I was scarface, sniffing with his nose in coke
The nigga that
heart is contemplating/ life in the after life/ y'all gone miss me later/
i get emotional on instrumental/yea/ thats my forte/ i opened up my soul
y'all (that y'all!)
And that's all!
Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage, I leave
'Cause when I put rhymes in they minds yo
For all y'all folks who were hopin' and wishin'
And I can assault, tryin'a take my position
Stop
the world
When we use our asses in the way
That Nicki has been using her ass
When they are not the accent in a
Video but the point of it
And most of all
time it's beef then we resorting to violence
Police come around we act like we got Alzheimers
Legend in my hood I probably be a all timer
Shout out to my
Selector
Don't feel no way
I want to hear my favorite songs
Yea!
You keep spinning nonsense and all of the vibes are wrong
Buh! Mr. Selector, wah!
Play
focusing I'm going in
Receiving texts I got the money, G I'm sending it
Time traveling all my enemies I'm deading it
You see these corpses never regretted
These are the glory days of lyricists, forever we plot
(It's going down in mystery)
You know, I know, you know, I know
(It's going down in mystery)
to y'all,
Together we stand,
Divided we fall, oh!
Dennis: Black is a color
Just like white,
Tell me how can a color determine whether
You're wrong or right,
Christ Jesus is the Lord confessed by all the nations
I was dead in sin Lord You came and restored my soul
The Good Shepherd guided this lost sheep
the trash
They laughed at me (Me)
Now they kissin' my ass, yeah, double-cheek
All my bitches are bad and
They come in threes (O oh)
Oh-why, did they wanna see
'you know a wise man once said, never judge a book by its cover, always read the whole thing in the bloody book shop and then decide if you wish
breathe In drugs, then I breathe out all the toxins
Alotta paper, money comin' out the faucet (Turn off that faucet)
Rubber bands, to much money for my
Written by Dennis DeYoung
Lead vocals by Dennis DeYoung
evil eyes
stole my heart on a dark December night
souls of flame
loving her has made
that rap nigga. What's up with that?
For real?
Yeah, nigga, they were in there together, my nigga
Wishing you never heard of a (Psycho bitch)
Bitch will
I just drove my vauxhall right through your door
Pulled my pants down and shat onto the floor
What you gonna do
Cry about it like a poo
Wanna break
To try and find the wrong I done.
The first you wrote me was the sweetest
The last one broke my heart in two
And all alone I left you weeping
For
to match my estimates
Gotta keep my instrumentals feeling sentiment
I'm trying to incorporate all of the elements
Worst case in 50 years my songs will play
hot
Get out of my sight before you get lined up by a dot
And I'm hitting the bitch like my name is TJ watt
Just bought the challenger pulling off
been out here really tryna set the pace
All you other motherfuckers only gettin' in my way
What it is, what it do
Tryna shoot him, and I'm tryna shoot
or on sea
And I'll share all your sorrows and cares
At night as I kneel by my bedside to pray
I'll remember you love, in my prayers.
--- Banjo Instrumental
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