Lyrics:
to the angel eye, and paint pictures
With a pen, for the saints that die
Why you happy go lucky, off of record label lies
I make, rebel music, verse
I miss you, man
I wanted to dance and you would have been up for it
The song to be decided by you
Is hell, in the end, as bad as they said?
Are you
By candle light
Sitting in my room
A strange sound caresses me
So silently
I need to find
What I'm looking for
In the melody of this strange town
which labeled her a dime
She had a virgin mind
Style wid good conversation
Knew the important virtue of patience
Stay wonderful respectable middle
someone new
I miss the mind of the wonderful
I let the icy thoughts run through me cold
and no one knows
I keep the pain of a broken soul
wounds that just
someone new
I miss the mind of the wonderful
I let the icy thoughts run through me cold
and no one knows
I keep the pain of a broken soul
wounds that just
someone new
I miss the mind of the wonderful
I let the icy thoughts run through me cold
and no one knows
I keep the pain of a broken soul
wounds that just
It's cold tonight, hurts to the touch
I'd say it's fine, but I miss you too much
We're still so young, but old enough
To fully grasp the gravity
which labeled her a dime
She had a virgin mind
Style wid good conversation
Knew the important virtue of patience
Stay wonderful respectable middle
By the way you smell like
Ashtrays and Listerine
You act strange like Mr. Bean
And, probably gonna miss the point
It's a damn shame
You're the reason I
BRUH
Unanointed presentations, BRUH
Using them same ole tongues YEP
Singing that same ole song UUGGH
And homie it won't be long
The saints is gon' be
rudimentary
Rhymes rudimentary and to earth like re-entry
Elementary, my dearest Watson
Rhymes by the plenty a boy in his twenties
Attitude like I'm sixteen
insurance no protection
Heart on sleeve but the hoodie on
I mix the ouch with the Saint laron
Im overthinking i might be trippin
But it's cool fall with me i
Miss me with that missin'
That third cup repetition
I'm bowlin, I'm golfin'
Ayy bitch, I be pitchin'
My partner got a 9 in that Saint Laurent
You call it
they get to sinkin'
Hoppin' out on feet, passion pit, I take a walk
Machine gun stays by my side like I'm Megan Fox
Them boys playin' air guitar,
looks
Your health
Your point of view
Tell me are you still of use
If you were in an auction
What would someone give for you
As years go by and seasons
Stuck in these cycles, they label me «psycho»
Guidelined by my sidecode, they throw us away, they recycle
Some don't think they important, quickly
Miss me you dun get a kiss yeah
Diamonds what she got that teeth yeaa
Sometimes you gon walk away
That shit brought me out my pain, of course I wanted
Throw the saint in the fire, babe, long day
Power's something you believe in, something you gain
At 19, I was king, so supreme, down to Judea
with less
[CHORUS]
Cause I still miss you
I can't grieve without you
My world needs to change
I'm so far from being
The pious saint
I'm reasoned to be
exposed
I'm marching like a saint
I'm the shape the can of paint that night
Bear your ink the shape I write
Blare you seek the shade
I trace the tracks
me for being crazy in love
Malo
Tú eres malo, malo, malo
Tú eres malo
Por qué tan malo
You a bad boy
The type to turn a saint into a sinner
nineteen
Wish I could kiss her on her cheek
Wan just did a ten, he got out
Ain't miss a beat
Ridin' 'round in a Benz
Gettin' massaged by the seat
Lil' nigga
was perfect
Took a picture from my wallet
And never would have saw it
No, I don't wanna hear it from Miss Claus
Since a baby maybe I could be
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