Lyrics:
attempt over and over that week to catch me in acts of Verbal plagiarism or
Insult me, only to always be bested by my quick and always razor Honed
jewels make you want to glance?
(Why wouldn't this whip make you want to ride?
And why wouldn't this thing be on my side?)
Why wouldn't this game have
Lost child never had it easy
Take a glance at my present or past
Probably wouldn't believe me
Rollin' weed with your role model
Never walked your
From the first collection of poems "In Your Name” (Russian: Во имя твоё).
In English (interpretation by Elizaveta Suboch and Leah Foden):
That
this is France
And a dinner here is never second best
Go on, unfold your menu
Take a glance and then
You'll be our guest
Oui, our guest
Be our
jewels make you want to glance?
(Why wouldn't this whip make you want to ride?
And why wouldn't this thing be on my side?)
Why wouldn't this game have
jewels make you want to glance?
(Why wouldn't this whip make you want to ride?
And why wouldn't this thing be on my side?)
Why wouldn't this game have
A vicious, hopeless cause
(Repeat 2x)
They look at you sideways
Nervous glances, quick handshakes
Clammy hands and fake smiles
Swinging in your heart
you my life
You taught me how to feel validated through pages I write
Your smile be contagious you made the stars a lil' shy
When I was lost your advice
lies
I know better than to believe your fables
Blinded by bright lights you quickly glance around
Only to see the people you have slaughtered
Try
I'm taking your submission
For endless nights of pain
Clearly made collection
Of souls, struggling, bound by chain
To me
To me
I wish I could've known
jewels make you want to glance?
(Why wouldn't this whip make you want to ride?
And why wouldn't this thing be on my side?)
Why wouldn't this game have
speak to you
They call me J.O.E. I play no games
I'm one them S.O.B's from the S.O.S gang
I said you're pretty fine, out of ten you're a dime
With that
Wa-mono
There's me, there's you (hoko-ten)
In a pedestrian paradise
Where the catwalk got its claws (meow)
A subculture, in a kaleidoscope
with a lot of tens
Perfect looks don't make you vibe with me
Matter of fact what's in your heart, we'll see
Conversations left me feeling empty, yeah
Phone a friend
Oh no he's gone without you again
In bed by ten
Don't press send
Before you know it'll be the end
Just round the bend
Glance over my
2X
Devil slidin through ya hood with a collection plate/
You put your lil homies lives in it, that's hella fake/
Be at Grand Central by ten
Take Metro North to Glenwood
I'll pick you up there"
And it was
One night with Lianne
One night with Lianne, Lianne
It was
Make all the ladies say (ooh, ooh baby)
You can't knock the hustle, not at all (no, no, no, no)
Can't be budged by your muscle (no, no, no, no)
Never
to be found by racing around,
You carry your pain wherever you go,
Full of blues, and tryin' to lose,
You ain't gonna learn what you don't wanna know.
So
a slingshot on Mars
But I'm here by the road
Bound to the load
That I picked up in ten thousand cafes and bars
Alone with the rush of the drivers who
East Side from 1950 to 1975
We start with Harry Smith in 1950
A beatnik weirdo living in New York City
His huge collections were insane
Of Easter eggs
your reflection
[Chorus] - 2X
[Verse 3 - Bubba Sparxxx]
There is no king for the throne I seat
All by myself, so alone I leap
For the young boy, daddy
Ren
Just wanna customize, watch like a nigga Ben 10
These hoes be lyin' in my face like I ain't never been 10
These niggas want attention cause they
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