a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de sunday morning mass nuggets - deadcrow

[intro:]
sunday morning m-ss nuggets
i get high & go to church like f-ck it

[verse 1: deadcrow]
i throw plenty temper tantrums
& put locks on the ankles of sl-ts so they can’t run
random, tosses & swings like a pendulum
bosses & kings with six to ten pens we brung
sprung from under the tongue of a giant tyrant
then clung to the mildew, kick it like kung-fu, this sh-t vibrates
effortless flow like a broken hydrant
& if your chest feels less soul, this sh-t’ll hydrate
high rates for high days, that’s my day
i wake up to bake up, mind states like why wait?
simple as s-x with a nympho cast
check the info fast if you think that kimbo clash
i symbol cash rules for the m-ss fools
fear that i’ll forever hold this beer & never make the draft pool
but act cool as a cuc-mber
cause i know the flow will amount to paramount & acute hunger
salute under, any circ-mstance
with perfect stanza my stance does make y’all do a circus dance
purpose trance, mind bobbling these bobble-heads
who gobble bread & heads with baphomets
i’m in amends with myself to not follow trends
but i’m being persuaded towards this light of halogens
with hollow ends, odd followings & goth modelling
auctioning my soul for half off offerings

[verse 2: deadcrow]
similarities between me & my brothers
that’s nothing, seeds from different mothers, that’s stunting
born & raised in different borders
importers of some sort, white snort till we reach florida waters
with our baby daughters in hand
i’m fighting the man till i get shipped back in the back of a white van
like f-ck them country boys
i’m unloading my golden eagle like some eager bounty boys
at them county boys, need profits to sky rocket
pockets gotta be looking like “the chi’s” top spit
west ye got noses bleeding like mosh pits
odd sh-t, hitting on blonde chicks while spock shifts
my, conglomerates, not the mexis
nor maxi wearing terrorists, we overbearing barons with
cannibus hot boxing & airing crypts with arabic’s
horrors starring in our mist
praying the earths decaying or soon come eclipse
or f-ck it, a tsunami hits, to calm me quick
i got them pipe dreams, a slight fiend for the rhyme scene
started at nineteen, but the hypes gleam like high beams
& uhh, none of these rappers is siamese
they look at the rhyme scheme & think its written in chinese
plenty more, but i’ve learned to drink henny more
& worry about a penny source rather than these petty sores

- deadcrow

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS