letras.top
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 the villain - ​dread scott

Loading...

[intro]
uh, yeah

[verse]
living in the coldest times, the villain here to spit the truth
they wondering who next in line, i’m stepping in, i fit the shoe
looks like i have to wear it too ’cause rappers biting styles
start resembling a sabertooth, i beat the odds and made it through
they told me that’s what pain’ll do ’cause all these david dukes
would rather see me as the strangest fruit, my face all full of metal screws
feeling like my name was doom, i know the opps in full pursuit
that’s why my gun dumb in the sky like a mobile suit
ha, yo, check me out:
living in these foolish times, i had to spit the truest rhymes
i put it out, now you decide: it’s garbage or it’s guggenheim?
claim they moving weight, the bank the only time you moved a dime
stop with all these games, i hear these fakes and i know you be lyin’
sharks all in the water, keep a trident when i scuba dive
never put my tool aside, they asking who am i
i’m makaveli getting crucified
yeah, and this is do or die, i seen ’em hate and scrutinize
you hit the brakes so you behind, i need a plate, the food arrive
these little fakes get neutralized, ain’t tryna wait for bluer skies
a nine-to-five is suicide, if you ain’t grinding on that drive
then we ain’t seeing eye-to-eye, that’s why my circle getting tight
i only rock with certain types, who seen the dark, we’ll see the light
and i might get a little bit savage when i spit
’cause if they push me to the edge, it’s only malice in these clips
uh-huh
living in the fakest times, i had to let the truth be told
the coldest in the studio since i was playing yu-gi-oh!
i put that on the gods, eating like a megalodon
you starving, no ramadan, you faker than comic-con
i started out a vagabond, now i’m on the autobahn
autopilot always on and my crew a nation deep
so you can call me farrakhan
yeah, pay no attention to naysayers who tsk tsk when you take risk
like day traders, i’m throwing out haymakers
’til they all lay vacant, only hate us creatives
’til we hot when we made it or hot like cremated
that’s that posthumous, prosperous but living in my oculus
it burn like white phosphorus and that was just a consequence
of lacking of a pot to p-ss, the villain chillin’ in the mist
came to rock the rocket ship, so i bombed then pearl harbor-ed it

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

Loading...