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letra de authentic hours - storyofsaint

[intro: the notorious b.i.g.]
i swear to god, i want to just slit my wrist and end this bullsh-t
throw the magnum to my head, threaten to pull sh-t and squeeze

[verse 1: storyofsaint]
ain’t no boy on the corner, “but you’re black so what do we call ya?”
jungle explorer, mr. drowning-in-the-water, mr. witness-all-the-slaughters if an opp crosses the border
i’ve lived death, hate love, alright enough with oxymora
hooligan kapona, grew up around the stoners, now a lyrical performer, ain’t never altered my persona
to fit in, still a loner, heart cold as the polar, flip the script all over on the eye of the beholder
bars in my holster like granola, they’ll say “he never told us”, n-gg- please move over
don’t -ssociate with cobras, they can bite but got composure
complaining like a toddler, go and suck an areola
young gntlmn, i’ll pull up in my loafers or a trackie, couldn’t care about the solar
depends which side of my shoulder’s the real provoker, saint don’t keep it mediocre

[interlude: the notorious b.i.g.]
death is f-cking calling me

[verse 2: storyofsaint]
this is me breaking the tension, tryna ’cause prevention of all the thing that i mention
avoiding the d-mn sentence, you won’t catch me in detention
loaded with intentions to bring you to new dimensions, may i have your attention?
world’s full of deception, extinguishers start flexing and candles feel the affection
i do not see the connection of your profound obsession to call this sh-t some “heaven on earth”, it’s not the same thing
if i was fake, i’d be accepted but i’m real and up for dissection
all my energy to resurrect him, life’s a renowned -sshole, r-ct-m
no sh-t, you reckon? enough with p-ssive aggression, i don’t need your d-mn suggestions
power in me that’s vested, if you think that you’re destined
take the fate of a king, must be a jester or an heiress
ain’t the one but you should fear us when i come through like i’m beerus
no, i ain’t providing clearance but i respect the resilience

[outro: the notorious b.i.g.]
sick of n-gg-s lying, sick of b-tches hawking
matter-fact, i’m sick of talking

- storyofsaint

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