Lyrics:
And don't make a sound
She was with me in the day and
It's funny how it all goes bad
Never thought we could fade out
By moving too slow
Left me down in
Falling to the ground
Filling up my eyes
But they don't make a sound
I was welling up with tears
Falling to the ground
Filling up my eyes, but they
the sacrifice but
No appraisal of blood still flowing
Who were the leaders?
What controlled the Killing Hand
That caused this mouthing?
Crossing over
all the time, any place, anywhere
Y'all niggas could get it
Act like y'all don't know
In a world that's ice cold, blacks die slowly
Cats snatch
Yeah, making this freestyle real quick
You won't believe from where
Huh
Yeah
Is that a new name
Yeah, that J-Nasty
It's a freestyle, right from my
never make a sound
But I know that you're creeping around on me
Everywhere that I go now
Digital footprints left behind
Paranoid spyware programs
a briefcase
Who needs a wallet?
Be a pigeon nigga you sound retarded
I'm the girl with more cream than St. Patrick's Day
A house by the bay so what do you
Crazy how you left I'm a big boss now
Love the fashion I be kicking out hoes with my J's
Crazy how you posting all these pics but it really make you
just have to drive on by
Cause he's stuck on I-75
All I really had on my list
(All that's on my list)
Was to be with my band who I really missed
(Who I
dollar smile
It don't make sense though
Threw on my army fatigue shorts and a
T that say "Peace Not War"
Now everybody eyeing me
I don't know if I need
Darlin it´s time to wake up
and just listen to the tender tune
those little songbirds sing
Take care of that sound,
put it in your heart
paint
so he taxed that shit by the gram
Layoffs, if you don't pay the fee, deal with the program
Twin turbo V8 smashing off, they like, god damn
Fire flame
your bitch)
Now tell me does that sound like any rappers you know
Hahaha, if they come through, it'll be attack of the clones
Return of the Jedi, I got
be ready to squeeze
But put a cheddar in cheese, guac-a-moola
I pop the ruger, send that hot shit through ya
Like booya that's the sound when
cuz I shoot like I'm Curry
Ay wait straight, Nigga cant turn me down, make the deaf hear the sound
Selling weight by the pound, another package
And it's no accident that these rhymes sound tough
I'm goin' off, baby, there's no turnin' back
I'm on your TV, on your album, cassette and 8-track
And when
That's above us, make beds for the babies
Tuck kids under covers, buy cribs for their mothers
Shit, I'll probably be wylin' with their fathers
Tell Ms.
Ah
Why must it take us down to something else
We're going mental
It takes me by the hand
And leads me sweetly down to hell
Oh I must weep
Make men's
And it's no accident that these rhymes sound tough
I'm goin' off, baby, there's no turnin' back
I'm on your TV, on your album, cassette and 8-track
And when
Huh
I'ma need a bigger bag for the cohort
Tryna make a millionaire out of slum dogs
Bet that, head crack, blunt force
Cozy with the east Africans
was stirring
Before I was around
And now that we are lifted
With consequence abounding
We cannot make a sound
Pointing at the sky
Living by and by
I can not be satisfied all by myself
Lying awake night after night
The music that I make needs to be heard
Because it's the only thing that I do
Come
by the fire
that sound drifting off outside
there's an under light drizzle, going on
that sound faucets off
hang me out the window, no resolve
for
(Red, that ho so fuckin' bumpin', bruh)
Glrrt-glrrt (hey)
(DJ on the beat, so it's a banger)
Ayy, before you make me disappear, I bet that I'm
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