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 no name faces - mams junky

[verse 1: mams junky]
hit the qt, dry mouth
got me feenin’ for that ice-tea
peach flavour, gotta get me that backwoods
limited edition, russian cream
we hit the maxo, smoking a pack of that good
several different methods, intellectual conversations
over this medication, slumped at the heights
different faces every other night
pin-point the junky at the same wall
stuck in the corner thinking bout life, life

(aye)
(hey, hey, hey, hey)
(hey, hey, hey, hey)

[verse 2: mams junky]
i be gnashing my t–th, together
cuz i know my soul is carbon driven
leave a lil some for me
i’m tryna match the vision
coolio, yeah cool, i’ll give the eulogy
to my best-friend, shot in his first car
guess the drug deal went wrong, yeah the 99’ lincoln
stay breathin’, hard to escape the reasons
what i can’t seek from society
anxiety prescribe me the pill bottle
good looks, now i’m tenant
with my head on the ground, laces up to the sky
walking on a 180 flip, ask me some sh-t
i’m doing fine, got gifts like the groceries
cheffin’ up the kitchen that’s the real me
slam the counter with the styrofoam cups
concentrate on breaking mirrors
what kind’ve thoughts you fishin’
at the end of the pier
stuck in your mind, reflections in the rear view
glass, while you drive
but them skeletons are faded, clouded, looking sublime
they long for life, life
(aye)
(hey, hey, hey, hey)
(hey, hey, hey, hey)

[verse 3: mams junky]
i felt devoted to the concrete
posted bummy, when i hit the scene
reactions over the complexion
f-ck, i tend to disagree, see
it’s the complex, severed personalities
they try to regress
several other different realities
i seem to manifest
you bartered off an s.o.s.,
sh-t i’m thinking i’m living
luxurious off a loaf of bread
cuz it’s whatever i can get
dollar bills on the branches
of some money trees, i grew
and invested in
i’m the mad lamb of the flock
they tend treat me as the odds
so then there’s nothing i’m up against
i delight in the dialect of silhouettes
compliments to the selection of liquor
warming up below my chest
seems so wise wise, intellect
know these fake faces, are just so turbulent
can’t have them around for more than 80 seconds
then, they try to scr-pe of the progress of my endeavours
while i’m stressing bout bout life, life

(aye)
(hey, hey, hey, hey)
(hey, hey, hey, hey)

- mams junky

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS