letra de fwp - charles hamilton
if i don’t rhyme, pardon me
what i know about being hood? i don’t know sh-t about being good. kindergarden, got a black mark. what up cleveland? creative playrooms and sh-t. breathing doesn’t really happen when i gotta read in-between these lines. each time i do it, i find sh-t that requires movement of my psy (sh-t). black marks mean bad behavior. i was always bad but a savior, a revolutionary amongst kids. every time i got in an argument they’d jumped in: “charles is right!” “charles is on a cross!” “charles getting crossed isn’t right!” so when i got crossed by my older cousin, i would hold it in my oven, my soul was disgusted with myself. no more discussion, hang myself with this belt. 6th grade cut my wrist til i was p-ssin’. p-ss first, then blood, then… what?! i got a vision of a furry white, i got a vision of a furry, right, right, right. i’m so southern so err’night. sure about it? well i ain’t gotta worry, my baby
i don’t know how to be fly, i don’t even know if i’m fly
i just walk with my silver strut, my silver strut, my silver strut, my silver strut
every night i put your p-ssy on a pedestal
every night, right, i put your p-ssy on a pedestal
every night i put your furry white p-ssy on a pedestal
every night i put your furry white p-ssy on a pedestal
it’s the a color of a cloud and the lining of the dark. pantomiming, but hamilton’s dying when the smartest comes up and says “you’re an artest, not an artiste or an artist. so when you get p-ssed you want to give a fan a hard hit.” f-ck all that. i want to give you hard d-ck, while you chewing bubble gum saying, “yo, what’s all of this?” didn’t you make it? i consider you god, that’s even further than me considering myself odd. you know the thought of it. sometimes i wish i thought of you and you could say you thought of it. such a great idea: have something as great as the leaning tower of piza and the mona lisa guiding me by my leash and – wait a minute – it’s only a game, can we stand up?
i don’t know how to be fly, i don’t even know if i’m fly
i just walk with my silver strut, my silver strut, my silver strut, my silver strut
every night i put your p-ssy on a pedestal
every night, right, i put your p-ssy on a pedestal
every night i put your furry white p-ssy on a pedestal
every night i put your furry white p-ssy on a pedestal
hold on, listen: you’re a cloud, you’re the lining around the dark and you’re the light when i the dark. who else can you be? i’m excited to enlighten the part of which no other guy can depart themselves in, or from. when they get inside of you, call it a foursome. i’m counting four because i know one of them died. i’ma ride beside it. every last thought you gonna find when you go through my mind is basically going to be my bottom line. gothic unless you’re real. you’re my god and i accept you’re real but – hold on, hold on – were those special heels? what the f-ck was that, a b-tton? all this is nothing without you, f-ck it. am i safe to doubt you? you’re the dot on the letter b on the controller. you’re the dot on the letter b on the controller. i doubt you’re gonna let it be if it’s over, so i shout at you “let me breathe!” like i’m hova
i don’t know how to be fly, i don’t even know if i’m fly
i just walk with my silver strut, my silver strut, my silver strut, my silver strut
every night i put your p-ssy on a pedestal
every night, right, i put your p-ssy on a pedestal
every night i put your furry white p-ssy on a pedestal
every night i put your furry white p-ssy on a pedestal
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