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 delusions - saint j & october kid

(‘delusions’ single off the album “weekend @ october’s”)

[beat drops]

[verse 1: saint j]

and i’m filled with delusions
of prophets on the same docket
c-ck it and load, and pull up to your crib
and explode and unload baskets, you get your
-ss kicked and squeal, you wish you never would’ve
signed the f-cking record deal
sybattical and, going crazy on it, collateral damage
inside of a mansion where no one knew a d-mn thing
we we’re supposed to entertain the fact, we won’t
fight back, trembling knees, could it be the ending
for me or someone else
keep it to yourself, ignorant minds listening, fades
are switching beefs are turning into religion
causing pain infliction
this ain’t in your diction or -nary. we stroll
cemeteries hearin’ screamin’
maybe it’s demons or the undead, can’t take a f-ckin’
bullet to your head i’ll leave you dead in ten seconds
a message to god, tell him that he f-cked up worse
than he could ever imagine. a hot rod, a cold
shoulder. it’s time to expose you for what you are
now your dramatizing vengeance stationary in
a parked car. stationary in a parked car
no will of of the way to live wherever you are (uh)

“yo oct hit that sh-t.”

[verse 2: october kid]

fires and rioting
devil’s in the driver’s seat
stop for the pot holes
i see demons and ghosts, when i huff snow
shoot something up, like anthony kedis
ride around in two seaters
pullover hoodies, and wife beaters
cream leather seats in my reagles
tellin this girl don’t you leave again
somethin’ inside must be broken right
give me a reason to be alive
bring me death
push the weed and liquor to side
whatchu know about bein’, insane. breakin’ window
frames and shovelin’ dirt away from a stranger’s grave
tellin’ yourself, everything is okay
but you’d rather give up on everything
than give up on yourself
load it up, exhale and c-ck it, and pray for god to
stop it
i’m done, end it all, i’m off it

[verse 3: saint j]

and i’ve, come from the dead wasted, mind wasted
fentanyl lacin’ a pain station. couldn’t speak in better
words. a heart racing it’s beat to a soft and steady
adjacent to any abnormal placement
this ain’t what you find in your mother’s bas-m-nt
could barely taste it
a slip of satisfactory disapproval, enough to make
you feel what your used to and keep you on your head
matter of fact i’d rather leave you dead than a
mystery unbeknownst to the city of love and a
mixed project
project your words, use your tool, quip and fools keep
wits to school, any motherf-cker around us felt
twitched to move. and it never ceases to behoove a
single ent-ty a remedy for leaving is deciding the debt
or you flee
don’t know what’s next for me to die, or to come back
i’m all outta prozac
and ecstasy quit stressin’ me we’ve under oppressed
it and stressed it from recollecting days

“that’ll be all now” [october kid]: that’s it

- saint j october kid

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS