Lyrics:
There is a heart so cold
That takes the place
Of one that grew too old
Now you know how the
Slayer will kill your turn
If you are the guilty
His blade is
The drama queen is back
This is my attack
Another bonus of our hack
Just a bad flashback
The drama queen is back
This is my attack
Can you play it
or rather sit in this tram
Wondering if there's more to life than constantly losing slams
I guess I cram, too many words in my delivery
And sometimes come off
on a spaceship
Fly so high I don't know if you can take it
Take a look at my mind and it's racin'
New lotus, I'm car chasin'
(Skrrrr)
Amazin'
Take a pic then I
I got sumthin to tell y'all today
Some o' y'all might not like it
But then again somebody out there might just will
Lemme take my time
Wednesday night, I'm here again
Reminded by your new habits
You fell in love again
It's hard to process this goodbye
When I think about you and I
you can take a hunch
And find that I am the baby of the bunch
But that's okay, I still keep in stride
'Cause all I'm here to do is just wiggle your
one
Britney
I have no secrets
'Cause there's a version of me
That I don't know how to hide
When you're making me glow
With your fingers against
aggression even though you're still a freshman
I can't find that first year love
I guess I'll take this as a lesson to love my girls without discretion
Cause
bands on me
Like parades
You'd think I'm flipping that snow
Moving in silence
Breaking generational curses
I can't trust a nigga
Nah
This is a riot
I feel like you just don’t know
All those nights I cried alone
I feel like you can’t forgive
A version of myself that no longer exists
But that’s
said, I'll see you in hell But the Kennedys knew all too well
There's a New York version of everyone, whatever that means
You get your fortune told by
taking over empires
If the game was a tooth
I'm a fuckin' pair of pliers
We gon' do 'em Vinny style
As you can see, this nigga got many styles
(Serious)
workers ain't official
I was taught the ball through the foul play
'Cause you can't take it witchu
For the weirdos still through air
Holes on a TEC (tech')
Michael, he's too busy?
I am Triumph, Britney Spears has shoulders like a man
And I can say that and you'll laugh
'Cause there's a puppet on my hand
it's a part of me
It's me if you wonderin'
Who I'm at war with
Old version of me, sitting by dormant
It bleeds, all over me
There's no tourniquet
said to him, No one can let me write Christmas music. It's a path I have to take on my own.
I believe that if you have a plan B, you'll never get
I do not condone it (Yea)
I get that granola
I just want my bonus
I'll keep my composure
You just want exposure
You just want exposure
She call
Man, I showed up, pimpin' ya cold up
I head straight to the bar just to post up
I roll the 'dro up, my cup Mo'ed up
Bitch, don't just stand there
between wrong or right
Who are these people by you side
What's the matter now don't you hide
Which version is the one that abides
Which version will see
done
Never sought it out. Never cared to.
Figured I’d get there if I paid my dues.
But livin' on a path that’s written by someone else,
Leaves you very
At the video shop
Let me fly, fly you away
From all of the depression in you head
Caused by all the living in the red
I've got a bootleg version of Citizen
And there's nothing I can do
Nothing anyone can do about this
And oh, I'm offering you a chance to get even
But oh, you know very well the dialect
Let's see how far you can spar, Beau...
Beauregard Blowhard, versus the Hurricane Empress
Rapping up a storm! I'm the Voice of the Tempest
Straight
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