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letra de bfi - era stone

chorus:
get your f-cking hands up, shove aside another sl-t, i’m so sick of hearing you complain
adjust your f-cking tv, until the day you see me, hashtag borderline f-cking insane

verse 1:
lean your chair back, and let your d-mn legs rest, you’re too drunk to protest, and too stoned to put it back on my chest
that being said, walk with me through pleasure and pain, or grow some dreads and grab your nuts like chainz and lil wayne
i’d love to deal with you b-tches calmly but i ain’t got the time, to waste my breath on a wanna/never will be who still thinks “n-gga n-gga n-gga” rhymes
’till you see more red than nicki minaj when her boy toys see her peepee get bigger, allow me to spit your a few more options for your overuse of the word “n-gga,”
i live to offend, so go figure
i’ll wear down your pedestal like paint thinner
save me lord, i’m a mother f-cking sinner
your prodigal son has returned for dinner
where’s kanye now, come steal my moment, but don’t expect to f-cking condone it,my forgiveness ain’t so swift, so run back to your golddiggers b-tch
and tell em hey, from era stone, i’ll tear you down before you get a dialtone, you wanna be a gangster? here’s a tip, get your f-cking lips off of the status quo’s d-ck
’cause i’m no monica, and you’re no clinton, so man-up and bid your career good riddance, all the way from biggie and 2pac, to a helium coma grab on his c-ck (hey wayne,)
to a two note solo, where the f-ck did rap go? hanging from a thread by miley’s blowhole
got you b-tches in a chokehold, but f-ck mainstream man, let’s go local

chorus

verse 2:
std.. i mean….stu…. check it out guys…
pop open this chest, it’s time to start a war, you’re taking this rap game? what the f-ck are you waiting for?
i’ve built a f-cking monster, you ain’t stopping, words ring sweeter than your chocolate droplet, ironic that the biggest d-ck in bg, is swinging from the biggest pr-ck in d queen
for 18 years i waited in silence, for a chance to start a mother f-cking riot, so pack your sh-t and retreat, there ain’t no room for lyrical preteens
d.stubbs, and ringo, less flow than a dead man’s p-ssh0l-, so breathe slow, i’m bringing more f-cking punch than kimbo, it’s ground zero
i’m lacking? you see the fact is, you posers don’t know what a rap is, blacklisted, he insisted, here’s a shoutout for every f-ck i don’t give
f-ck shapist, and f-ck fubar, i got a bigger crowd in my own back yard, spread bullsh-t to run a business? and promote it to cracked out misfits?
shut the f-ck up and don’t get, i got five “f-ck-yous” on each fist, let’s wrap it up, there’s room for more f-cking tracks if you wanna throw a b-tch fit
you want respect, not a chance, you hear the music mother f-cker now dance, i had no choice but to intervene, if i got noticed so does your scheme
so you ban me in st. louis, are you scared or just confused? while offense was meant, you can go get bent, i never claimed to need you fake–ss f-cks, to pay my rent
like you need us, cause your band’s collecting dust, even when “b-tch,” is in season, you pack less meat than a f-cking vegan

chorus

verse 3:
oh..one more thing…
set a candle in the window mother f-cker light the way before i carve it out of your religion
do we fight or run and hide? take a knee, open wide, in the face of indecision
i got a wound festering up, and i had enough, long before you f-cked me over
don’t come running back, that sh-t’s whick-whack, get your head off my godd-mn shoulder
hold your breath, there’s no use crying, i’ve spent too d-mn long sympathizing
get revved up a little bit higher, and take a step into my fire

- era stone

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