Lyrics:
tryna throw a rose
Holding on your cup but you gotta let it go
Cause I'm love sick now
Yeah I'm love sick now
Cause I'm love sick now
Yeah I'm love sick
The nation is run by satanists
And oh baby, I could be one
The hormone that you secrete
Dislocates me
Scream 667, oh 667
667, sick, sick, sick
Hi kids
Welcome to cloud nine
We sure are glad ya stopped by to see us!
We got some special suprises for your red asses today
We got the insane clown
to introduce myself
I'm Slawsin
I'm on the rise nigga
Sick of the lies nigga
I go by Slawsin Blue
This shit is new to you
I'm undefined nigga
I'm on the rise
sick thoughts for all the dead
All you believe will be laid to rest by the
Six-six-six sick thoughts inside my head!
I will thrive on your despair
From
you're not by my side,
When you're not on this ride,
So pack your bags there's nothing to it,
Call in sick and stay,
With me everyday,
Call in sick
rhythm is sick
now the problem with you MC's today is you're too emotional
you have no devotion to the social bug spread
by the words you said
ones mang
Sick wid it nigga what you claim
My niggaz spit gasoline (x4)
Gasoline! (x16)
sick, sick
Didn't land in this by mistake
Got lucky off the risks we'd take
Times had when I look back
The madness of minds on a single track
Still
I am just so sick of it
I am just so sick of it sick of it sick of it
Sick of this shit
Girls don't pay attention to me
Unless i have
Some type
even learned
Sick of how events turned nana
There's nothing new na
Look at at what we're doin ?
Goddamn jealous ha
I cannot even move
Attract by fluz ha
Hold up ugh take a breathe look in the back and I see no contest
I know I can rap and I got flow so sick
Puffing the bar the nicotine gone hit hard,
till the day he grow up
Cause he through
Sick of all of the rules
Sick of his mama hollering, get up and go to school
Sick of everybody always telling
lie, men lie (16, 16, 5, 17, 18)
Women lie, men lie
Women lie, men lie (yo, we need the money machine for this one)
Numbers don't lie
Women lie, men
entries in his diary
The diary of Sick Man
Overcome by waves of lechery
One for you sixteen for me
Kill the monkey on his back
He kisses big, he
Yeah
I know you looking for that fire
I got that John Blaze shit though
Yo, I know y'all just want two 16's
So, I'm just gon' spit it like that
don't want to start
Any blasphemous rumors
But I think that God's
Got a sick sense of humor
And when I die
I expect to find Him laughing
I
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
been going on?"
And I'm deep within my subconscious
Can't lose your train of thought if you ain't ever gotten it
I hope I derail and hope by then I've
Playing with shadows all night
I'm losing my sleep
Over the silly little things that you do
Oh I'm so
Sick
Sick for your loving
Sick for your touch
It's just been the same
So sick of all these hoes
I'm gon catch me a plane
To where nobody knows
Just to get me away
From all the heated blows
So
Pulling Up, Pulling Up, Pulling Up in my ride, (I’m Pullin up! Pullin up!)
I’m sick of, sick of, always wasting my time, (ooooo aahhhh)
Ice on,
hands
And no poison will hurt them
And if they lay their hands on the sick, they'll be healed
They will pick up serpents with their hands
And no poison
advertise Bentley
Infiltrate the whole spot by some jit-jits
Yeah I send a hit-hit, on that face in the ground shit
Hop in some sick-sick, engine real
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