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 writer's block - nantes

(intro)
a lil somethin’ somethin’
turn me up, man
yo
yo

(verse)
where was pops at when og’s asked me to take a ride
the scars on my flesh only pointin’ to suicide
like b-tch, this ain’t about you
it’s all about the kid
the firstborn that’s always urkin’ me
job, that’s always workin’ me
and now you need my p-ss
mothaf-cka, please miss me with the fake sh-t
and call me a b-tch
i put it on my momma
every verse is the sh-t (yo)
uncle verty taught me that this sh-t real
get yo head out the clouds and stay alert
listen to me, cherish my knowledge never forget it
another moral aesthetic placed within the social media
tell me how many hours do you spend?
how many brown skinned kats in the pen that you never penned
they tellin’ us not to make their mistakes
you worried about subs, who’s bangin’ and who’s not
police pursue you because you shot
you fit the description
you’re a statistic
we’re all monkeys to a f-ggot -ss republican
and that’s all i’m sayin’ for right now (yo)
on my momma, imma make it and you not
if you stop, who gon set the example?
sittin’ in this backroom, just writin’ my life like you relatin’ to me
and i stay in her mouth like i’m related to t–th
so what you sayin’ to me?
please explain it again if i’m doin’ this right
get my momma a house and then i’m bailin’ them out
you second guessin’ yoself and it’s bad for yo health
you ain’t thinkin straight so put yo thinkin’ cap on
you ridin’ down the streets singin’ yo song
but it should be mine because i’m writing all these rhymes
and every verse and all of these lines, i’m doin’ it for you
so don’t be singin’ bout him if they gon sing about somebody, sing about
sing about me cuz i’m dying of thirst
and it hurt cuz each verse when n-ggas had got merk’d
i lost alot of friends comin’ up
n-ggas was runnin’ up, tellin’ me, “look what happened, look what happened”
guns clappin’, your reaction was quite too slow
and i knew hoes
but i mean….you know
i told my momma something
i was like (yo)
and n0body could hold us
sittin’ at maxwell house when we couldn’t f-ckin’ afford folgers
i write the coldest, dopest rhyme upon the page
and then this sh-t sittin’ in the tape deck, i’m listenin’ to voodoo by d’angelo
the angel flow
they floatin’ over me and they wings droppin’ feathers in every tether
was at the tether ball court, sittin’ on porch in the playground and they ran round
and then i don’t play round
i got my .38 and i’m…
i’m done

- nantes

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS