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letra de welcome to hell - dj golden arms

[verse 1]
welcome to the deep, i hope you can survive the smell
misery in the streets, the stench must’ve gone through a spell
witchcraft on each corner, love’s rotten, i hope you can tell
what’s in the air is thicker than slugs, and reason hollow as h-ll
like hearts, tricksters, credit rating fixers
roll through your old girl’s block slow, because you missed her
the silhouette is devilish going down on her mister
recognized as your bff who used bang her right before you kissed her
it’s sinister, exes mounting the minister
and you can’t get none of that, hands all blister
a horrible tale, as you ain’t getting no tail
turtles f-cking like rabbits but getting beat out by a snail
you’re touched by the grim reaper, your time is for sale
and he came to collect, i guess time once again has prevailed
don’t bother asking for more time, that ship already sailed
you might as well go quietly, i hope you picked out a nice coffin to nail

[verse 2]
welcome to the deep, i hope you can survive the smell
streets p-ssy, the homeless stench must’ve gone through a spell
witchcraft on each corner, three card monty, i hope you can tell
what’s under, sheets for coroners, cause these slugs are hollow as h-ll
not much is left, when iron separates from the home of its sh-ll
the air is full of death, from moms conjuring combat that constantly dwells
no remorse is felt, just demand for revenge and return with the animal’s pelt
no crying in depths, but bullets scream when guns are drawn from their belts
shootings fill the night sky like anguish from a yell
the devil does his best work under the cover of darkness, hard to vanquish sin since he fell
dead for 3 days, i thought it was he was taking a nap, we all stepped over, eventhough he wasn’t living well
n0body did a wellness check, it’s been three days worth of death in the swell
[verse 3]
welcome to the deep, i hope you can survive the smell
streets p-ssy, the homeless stench must’ve gone through a spell
witchcraft on each corner, three card monty, i hope you can tell
what’s under, sheets for coroners, cause these slugs are hollow as h-ll
not much is left, when iron separates from the home of its sh-ll
the air is full of death, from moms conjuring combat that constantly dwells
no remorse is felt, just demand for revenge and return with the animal’s pelt
no crying in depths, but bullets scream when guns are drawn from artillery belts
skins are collected like trophies, we are the worst of ourselves
maybe with a jumpstart, it didn’t have to be this way, but stomach’s grumbling, too late to dwell
we need money more than the roots and the seeds that could provide for itself
between gainful employment, and a come up, they’re choosing the lead instead of bread on the shelves
shootings fill the night sky like anguish from a yell
the devil does his best work under the cover of darkness, hard to vanquish sin since he fell
dead for 3 days, i thought it was he was taking a nap, we all stepped over, eventhough he wasn’t living well
n0body did a wellness check, it’s been three days worth of death in the swell

[verse 4]
welcome to the depths, i hope you’re doing well
hold your breath, the smell blends between the good and bad, it’s so hard to tell
apart from the righteous, it’s a corridor to h-ll
sort them and deport, them needle hoppers, the rest keep coroners swell
it’s not much to write about, everybody’s just out for self
the air is full of death, it’s hard to keep ammo stocked on the shelves
no remorse is felt, just demand for revenge
blood for blood, return dead or become the avenged
names are collected like trophies, we are the worst of ourselves
maybe a jumpstart would’ve helped
it didn’t have to be this way, but it’s too late to dwell
bullets whisper at unsuspecting targets, names are left on the sh-ll
survivors hug tombstones, sympathizers offer their thoughts and prayers
a gun salute is ironic, for a fallen soldier by gun, we turn naysayers
next day lead sprayers
as if vengeance ain’t his, and scriptures won’t bring back the savior

- dj golden arms

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