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letra de mind fuck - sick jacken

[verse 1: cynic]
these lames they all trick n ride
with them i don’t really vibe
i rather study character
then drink & try to socialize
my pockets is alright
i got my own f-cking high
got my own b-tches too
so homie keep p-ssing me by
it’s never personal, i’m telling you why
cuz i been around the world
and everywhere is the same lie
i been around the world, not everywhere is the same high
if the homies smash your girl
guaranteed she’s gonna tell you bye
these broads love me, cuz i gave ’em the knowledge
i teach ’em things
in a couple months, they gonna learn in college
explain, create your stories
while she slurping & vibing
we talking religion, science, astrology
big bang theory, while she moaning & swallowing
she knows i’m from the streets, so she thinks i’m astonishing
i love life, i live it with no limits
when it’s all said & done, will they be there when i finish
(when i finish, when i finish)

[hook]
yo, i gave you earth lessons, i came to you as a blessing
if my girl think i’m loyal then that b-tch is a fool
you hit like drugs, s-xy mothaf-cka
so we can never be a couple hun
yo, i gave you earth lessons, i came to you as a blessing
if my girl think i’m loyal then that b-tch is a fool
you hit like drugs, s-xy mothaf-cka
f-ck love, all i got for ho’s is hard d-ck and bubble gum

[verse 2: sick jacken]
yo, i lay back in the cut like..
the world is mine, and all i need is one mic
one bottle and one broad, i just might
i still like to live the single life some nights
only problem, b-tches come back when its done right
tell ’em what they wanna hear
verbal sk!ll is dumb nice
spit in her mouth while digging her out
d-ck in the trout
the broads dig it, cuz i’m big in the south
empty promises, no games
i just can’t be honest
it’s f-ck love
groupie p-ss thrown at the artists (d-mn)
what am i to do?
when she make it hard
just one thing to do, stick it in her orifice
i make ’em feel like i love ’em for just a bit
and always lose, when we start to play just the tip
had good times and got busted a grip
it’s your fault cuz you trusted the d-ck
you’re mind f-cked b-tch

[hook]

[verse 3: murs]
i bet i’ll f-ck that b-tch
even though she looking at me, like i ain’t sh-t
look i got more confidence then i got hair
what chu think you a dime b-tch? pft i don’t care
you can stand over there, thinking you too good
we drinking hennessy, so you think that we too hood
like we just some thugs, who ain’t about sh-t
but before you start to judge, let break down your outfit
50 dollar shoes with your 50 dollar dress on
homemade manicure, nothing but some press-ons
smelling like the perfume on sale at sephora
40 dollar bag but you paid more for it
these forever 21 broads, ain’t about nothin’
that’s why they -ss will be forever looking for husband
you see ’em mind f-ck ’em
break down their self-esteem
then build em back up and have playing for your team

[hook]

- sick jacken

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