Lyrics:
consumed
You're on some Thanos level bullshit
Load that flask and slam that bulleit
My name is
I forget but there's a bindle on my back
Weighed down by
mare
If you see me go by, put up a prayer"
Well, they rode all night, and they rode all day
Eastward, long down the broad highway
His spirit was tired
was blind
I hit the L, then we yell out
"It wasn't my time!"
I loaded up shells, one by one
You smelled blunt from my room door
Little Nasir was at war
short, gotta be close
Tryin' to get it big house out of these folks
Give me two years, it'll probably be three
4 door Benzes make my fee
On the regular
I couldn't take it any more
My heart about to burst
I walked right out
Didn't shut the door
I hiked 50 blocks and I didn't stop
Down to Lincoln
Envision the recreation of a man
The death of an old version
This is my dream
I'm making the rules flash
Those who said that I can't
Watch while i
corrupt
I fully intended the first to be embraced by the world
Giving it what it wanted
Leaving it peace to show
And have my beloved know
That the second
to get it got to get it
This is heroin medicine that morphine flow
My gun go off nigga and everybody know
I hold it down with the pound 3n57 ways
I stay
Polo down to my socks, I'm posted in the A
My chevy sittin low, my phantom ridin high
Them A's go up every time I ride by
Shawty whats up, I'm
me be out my element, element
That’s why I keep strap on me
Riding just me and my homie
This shit just slime out here
Get stuck laid down out here
In 81 a man said said that we would get it
No one talked, no one warned, all their writing was asemic
2012 we got hit by a bat
And now the world’s
Thrilling for a sport building fortresses of cardboard
Bait mazers straight razors shape the horror door
Duct tape the shutters shut walking down
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
Niggas kick in your door for a PS3
How the fuck do you expect me to be stress
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
Niggas kick in your door for a PS3
How the fuck do you expect me to be stress
getting off the 405
Be with this bad bitch, she living in the south
I'm met her at the club with my nigga Gotti
5-3, thick, with a lot of pride
takes up the pounding of the enemy forward positions…
War Correspondent 3:
And as the shells screamed down and the walls collapsed in gray powder around
Once upon a time, there were three little pigs
Who went out into the big world
To build their homes and seek their fortunes
The first little
rock shit down like he can't get no visits
One, two, three, four
Rock the whole world like the Rolling Stone tour
Raw your wack set is faker than a bomb
to his Hush Puppies
Wrapped around trauma, everything realer than fuck
Tajuana left my nigga niece live comma
Three young Italians, suited down personal
to his Hush Puppies
Wrapped around trauma, everything realer than fuck
Tajuana left my nigga niece live comma
Three young Italians, suited down personal
afraid?
My Brother
I went home early going home to see my wife
So I stopped at the Florist and I bought her a dozen of red roses.
Parked the car down
tone)
Three percent, purple tint, Cuban four choke
When I couldn't catch my check, I went and sold dope (sold dope)
Make it go and swipe, swipe, doin'
on a beat
Rokem comma Don't Sleep Mad Macks
That's 3rd Person
Serve a third of a verse and still got your girl lurking
And that's for certain
Lock the door
Told my old bitch to stop bothering pointed to the door
Got a four for four in my four-by-four for my four fellows
Wearing full VLONE head to toe
My ex
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