Lyrics:
the body, exhausted
Powder in the flasks promises losses
Eyes rush in panic, and hands do
Eyes rush in a panic, and hands are doing when the soldering tip
you're my darling drunk or sober
The French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man his flask of powder
His firelock on his
you're my darling drunk or sober
The French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man his flask of powder
His firelock on his
you're my darling drunk or sober
The French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man his flask of powder
His firelock on his
whiskey you're my darling drunk or sober
The French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man his flask of powder
His firelock
whiskey you're my darling drunk or sober
The French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man his flask of powder
His firelock
flask of powder
A firelock on his shoulder
And then love, fare thee well
With a too da loo ra loo ra doo de da
A too ra loo ra loo ra doo de da
Me rikes
of the party, we're the super-fun
Princess Di with a stun-gun
We are the boys
The eight ball of powder in your pocket flask
Idi Amin in a ski mask
We are
you're my darling drunk or sober
The French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man his flask of powder
His firelock on his
you're my darling drunk or sober
The French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man his flask of powder
His firelock on his
to me
(Fosco calmly empties brandy from a
Hip flask into a glass
Then he takes out a small
Vial from his doctor's
Bag and pours powder from it
Into
Fill me up and close the cap
I'm a little bit confused find it hard to ask
It's not in my nature unlike the flask
In my hand as I spit this verse
right there with them,
Waiting on those prescriptions
Like it's our only mission
[Chorus]
Silver flasks and zip lock bags,
Vacant eyes and sweaty
My angel took her last breath
Took her last steps when she took her last stash
White powder covered up all of her pain, and I was too ashamed to take
Gettin younger and fresher, puttin bums under some pressure
Yes sir! Watch the next Slaughterhouse album
Every line is white powder, I ain't talkin 'bout
on the corner has swagger like us
Swagger like us, swagger, swagger like us
Without further ado, Re-Up Gang Records
Pusha Ton is in the building
Powder
the army or the navy or the air the marines get the fast kill
Yea ryda ryda like it’s gum ball animation till the gun stall
Keep a flask wit a shot of jack
cuz she love how it feel
The feeling of powder numbing all her interior
Ain't she delirious?
Girl is you serious?
Can't you see I am a lyricist?
She get
blood, final hour
Light the powder, I devour clear the line
OG, Ice-T, Arnold Palmer with the lime
Leave a beat ripped and jacked: Arnold in his prime
You
jail hold ya head
If you tried it and failed go again
If you feel stuck, help a friend
Blue powder shakes, injected steaks
Artificial face of an extra
Hey Charlie, there's been a small accident outside on the front porch
I spilt your powder, it's all washed out in the rain
And I don't think I can
Foreshadowed the highs and the lows of her habits
But I do not know if she happened to ever catch onto the fact
I was masking my pain with a flask and a fraction
got more faces than Pumat, that's what you're going with
Powder monkey's packing, overload this Glass Cannon
He'll Blink out of existence like with
Gianno's with the white socks
Golf chain silver leash
Before the Bane mask and the brown colored flask
Everything she speak so sweet
Kinda dramatic,
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