letra de toxic fumes - nz0 (can)
[intro]
(what’s going on here?)
(nz0)
[chorus: nz0]
had to—, ha
had to pull up with a bad b-tch in the spot
always passive, never active, you should rot
exhale taste like ashes, cannot stop
pull up, do it, then we swerve right off the lot
talkin’ sh-t, hit the b-tch with all i got
pour peroxide on the floor, get a f-ckin’ mop
they be actin’ like they real, but they f-ckin’ not
[verse 1: nz0]
pull up to the scene like a machine, ha
put a barbed wire on a baseball bat
they be walkin’ ’round, whole squad on lack
up a f-ckin’ spore on ’em, hit em with an anthrax
yeah, i got somе lore and you know it’s all facts
runnin’ through the door, gotta cover all tracks
workin’ hard, you gеt matched, yeah, you b-tches all slack
’boutta breach open the latch, don’t drop the cash
[bridge: nz0]
pull up, track meet, yea, i’m runnin’ sh-t
it’s on automatic, let’s get into it
just got there, already goin’ ghost
goin’ so deep, yeah, i’ma f-ck a throat
pull up, i’ma lean for the payload
she won’t ever switch, all my b-tches say-so’s
i just need to find a f-ckin’ payphone
i’ma slide with 100k, ho
[verse 2: funeral]
i love murder, yeah, i promise that it’s more than just a hobby
i be out in public with the thought of stacking bodies, again
yeah, they still up on my ass, act like they caught me again
if they catch me, i’m dead now
i love murder, yeah, i promise that it’s more than just a hobby
i be out in public with the thought of stacking bodies, again
they still on my ass, act like they caught me again
if they catch me, i’m dead-dead
[verse 3: nz0]
bleedin’ out his head now, trigger finger red now
i just ate her heart out of her chest, watched it bled out
amphetamine vision in my eyes got my head fowl
guilty ’til we proven wrong, sentence, skip the fair trial
brain like i’m in a lighthouse
walls keep comin’ out to play
i’ma turn his head to a motherf-ckin’ ashtray
i’ma stop his motion like he made out of clay
got the tool in infrared, fair ain’t how we f-ckin’ play
[chorus: nz0]
had to—, ha
had to pull up with a bad b-tch in the spot
always passive, never active, you should rot
exhale taste like ashes, cannot stop
pull up, do it, then we swerve right off the lot
talkin’ sh-t, hit the b-tch with all i got
pour peroxide on the floor, get a f-ckin’ mop
they be actin’ like they real, but they f-ckin’ not
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