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 middleman - fyre

g rider
i’m so blown on this microphone
doing it for the people smoking zones in their homes
my body turn to energy i began to tremble actually
but there’s no words to describe what i f-ckin see
so i got back to my body to continue on my mission
on my knees praying, to learn my next position
i’m a crazy mystic warrior smoking blunts with straight hash
america’s best weapon, straight cash
so i dash on the hustle and my people working endlessly
every second of your life somewhere someone’s smoking weed
f-ck it, i look at buds in a magazine
and wonder why i like the smell of gasoline
a sick young man with a universal future
you need diplomatics to settle your disputer
taking the game too serious
but what did i expect, you’re all pent up and curious
amongst all my destiny of death and disclosure
important what you meant to me, we’re through in the doja

swank
all my homies are crazy dudes with crazy horses to crazy moons
you’re cappin soldiers with stranger moves
making crazy moves with crazier pieces
replace the booze with broken leases
make all the time beneath created
they were pinched then celebrated
you ain’t too nice
you highly overrated
the hell with swank daddy
i’ll getcha confiscated
get yo -ss, ya homies say she got dissipated
your constipated missions
your citizen capable
you don’t want a matter with an antipathy that’s untraceable
your city’s an unproper (aboscial?) you ain’t comfortable
now you ain’t got my seat, imma tell you about your personal
all you receive is pity and you’re mistaken for a urinal
you’re dressed like a reflector, used to talk about subliminals
i would cherish you but you’re an e-je-je-je
you’re an educated criminal
musta ran across a type of hazardous man
check chemical, i can smell your shit
your satellite pinnacles
see your former boss down these steps with all the pigeons
your shit ain’t hittin, your shit ain’t rippin
man your b-tch can’t cook, get that b-tch up out my kitchen
don’t contemplate your death cause your mic is now forbidden

mxlplx
same old shit, every day won’t quit
can’t quit till i’m old then [decayed?]
go kick it to the kerb
swervin like a midget saddled back in thunderbird
pervin off the liquid, my game is absurd
rob a train if you heard
if you know that i learn ‘fore i go
burnin bridges i control with some shit
four eyed locust paranoid
here’s a b-tch in the void
just a sip then annoyed
tripped out, schizo, addicted to endo
fogged up the windows
hot rocks in some toxic
bionic inflows off the tungsten boat
how we come with those
through the slum
let the beats cross the drum
said here’s where i’m from, where i’ll be
when i’m done, ice cold to the brain
freaky slow (emutane?)
gonna rest on the seine
floatin down invisible lanes

- fyre

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS