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letra de no tomorrow - dna tru lyricist

[verse 1: twisted insane]
i was in the party, sippin up on bicardi, smoking weed, i got the bong
pin a b-tch and ain’t no b-tching, i be in the kitchen wishing i was home
[?]
it’s been a minute, i’m rolling my spinach, i’m ready to hit it, getting in my zone
homie, i’m blown
give me some water, i need it before a n-gga really pass out
in the grass, high as a kite, i’m finna go night-night in the glass house
then i pack another bud before i gotta gonna hurry and then imma smash out
take it to the renegade upon a planet, really bout the sh-t i rap ’bout
back out the driveway, high as chris tucker on a friday
drunk as f-ck and barely standing up, but maybe this is my die day
this thing, twisted insane, brain feeling like a f-cking fried egg
with no clothes, just a f-ckin robe and i’m yelling sh-t up in the driveway
i gang with the night train, why me?
yelling like a motherf-cker, telling everybody in this b-tch to try me
you can bring your boys and i’m poisoned like ivy
and i swear i’m finna shoot the next motherf-cker say i look like ice-t
i’m not that nicely, always sitting by myself when a n-gga roll up
f-ck me, got the munchies, now i’m face-first in the donuts
burn but you made the wrong turn, n-gga, no cuts
smoke weed til i’m so deep, imma throw up
got the weed up and i’m thinking that i finna lit it when i hit the hash
tried to make it to my hotel, it was smoke-filled, man i’m trash
sit around and dab out, how long will i last?
[?]
off another bottle of the liquor, in deep
on the darkside with some n-ggas, said “i’ll cut you motherf-ckers into mince meat”
never tempt me
what? you got another bottle of the remy?
give me, henny, many, many, many, many
i’m just a drunk, can i get a minute, man i really can’t stop – i’m a drunk
get another bottle, drowning in my f-cking sorrows
i ain’t go no money so i ask the homie “can i borrow?”
gotta get going when it’s no tomorrow
[verse 2: dna tru lyricist]
it’s been a while since i rolled up a cigarillo
but life’s been pretty cold so i think i’m finsta buy a pack of zig-zags
think i will get me a thick sack
put the marijuana, then imma chill and kick back
with the diamond grinder, putting the weed inside, griding til it’s granulated
they really be trying to k!ll the anxiety, bout to be tightening hands and shaking
daily wasting my thoughts on the woman that really don’t give a f-ck about me
so imma puff on the joint and get high so i don’t be giving a f-ck about the world
nothing but brookelyn and autumn, my two beautiful girls
they are my daughters and i am the father so don’t even bother trynna make me swerve out of the lane
all of my sorrows, i must drown in the same old solar cup
the crown and vanilla and coke then i crack a bottle with the hoping to get f-cked up
or atleast bust up, or atleast enjoy the company of a freaky sl-t
then bust a nut, enjoy the ride, then come back to reality
but it’s not that way, another night alone, and it’s just sad to see-
that everyone around me’s got someone to hold and happily be-
in the situation, they’re just cold and have no apathy
cause actually they’re settling for half the pie naturally
they just want someone they can hold on to until the summer comes
cause when the heat is up, they gonna leave em for another one
and here they come, catching your girl’s attention, she on the run
and that’s just the way that life is, i promise you’re gonna f-cking come to realise it
trust me, the truth is it’s ill-advised to show you the mize inside of a woman with k!ller eyes
in disguise, hiding kitchen knives under pillow to pillowfight
til it’s a bl–dy red sight and time to k!ll the lights
f-ck that, i’d rather k!ll the mic and not take pills
and i don’t know what that’s like, but mac miller might
that’s still a sight that’s sad to see, pass me a [?]
and imma sit here at this bar looking at women left and right
and imma end up going home alone again and hop on tekken, might-
play me some call of duty or some fortnite
take a hungry man out the oven, grab a fork-knife
eat it while i watch forensic files on my 4k nice 900 e-sony tv
as i write to this track with twisted insane, it ain’t a thing you’re gonna see
the tru lyricist at his finest, ripping it from behind
it’s the hoofs of a stallion, reach for the sky
i never been the type to ruin the competition
i’m the drummer boy, prrum-pa-pa-pum the competition, brrum
here i end you coming from another dimension
as i’m puffing on this joint again burning off the inches
i’m up in the game and i’m wrecking em all when i’m hitting em up with the lyricism
there is no tomorrow, stay twisted tongue [?]
[outro: dna tru lyricist]
as a chief, ah
on the leaf, ah
you better believe, ah
me…

- dna tru lyricist

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