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letra de between criminals - numerous q's

[numerous q’s]

don’t download this mixtape, i’m not a good rapper.. and neither is evan
yeah, yeah whatever.. ughhhh

let me start off this song with a “f-ck all the citizens”
i’ll stab you with a feather if you’re stepping to my penmanship
in the need for asthma medicine, you’re speechless when you here steven’s rhymes i’m spittin’ with
and the rest of them are feminine, singin’ and their raps are sh-ttier than what i’m accidentally steppin’ in
mentally givin’ in, depressed so i’m sippin’ gin
your raps are so cheesy that i eat it with my lebanon
just invested in some mescaline
monster, just like eminem
i only step in the ring to prove you and your producer are two p-ssies like f-cking lesbians
k!ll you with the same ak that i used to shoot evan with
i’m a menace just like dennis is, committing felonies with the rest of my f-cking petty cl!ck
only into milfs, i’ll leave you asking where your nanny went
wasting away on miniclip
my adress six-sixty-six hard drive, cause that’s what i go when i’m getting it
computerized, super high, “starry eyed” like ellie is
k!ll lil fats yo, f-ck that little elephant
on his mixtape don’t give a sh-t, i should have been on vinny’s mix
finger on the trigger sh-t, trade your life with a pinky-slip
yo evan i, i think that’s it

[odiious]

i’m faded ’til my vision like a picture all black and white
nocturnal in my cave, during day then i attack at night
they actin’ like they like me before i turn notorious
this rap got no chorus cause the repet-tion borin’ us
deviancy was borin’ us, y’all can’t stop me
ball hotter than wasabi, flow harder than tsunami
cause i be that dark figure lurking under streetlights
death from religion said bury your beliefs right? stop
k!ll that boy playin’ trumpet
“sam is dead” thinking i’m losing it like i lost a comp-ss
doubt and the depression how much sadness can i stomach?
contemplate on jumpin’, i turn to a mad man with a musket

yeah, mad man with a musket
ugh, chill and add a suffix
f-ck a b-tch i bust quick, yeah

the sh-g of a vagabond is strictly between criminals
lurking in a parking lot, mid-atlantic, keep his brim to low
now we smoke ’em out like we tossin’ in the tear gas
hear that? sound of us turning future into near past
poetic, it justifies on “missing piece” like a mad man
peace between individuals, criminals, i never had friends

you f-cking happy? huh you little f-ggot?

- numerous qs

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