SagginMyPants
Ayy
Ain't gon' find, just bring it out (yeah)
Bring it out, just fuckin' take it up
I got the money for that
Spirits comin' after me, I'm 'bout to start a tragedy
A murderous inferno, strike the matches and I grab the keys
I head up to the palace, cop a backwood like normality
But everybody knows that I'm a fucking abnormality
The ghost of Satan
The no-name flow with the pain in the rain
Gassin' the side of my grave with the ocean spray
Laugh when the bodies is dumped out of the trunk
Get the pump, put it up
Shoot it to God like I don't give a fuck
Killer for life
Just a kid with a knife
Figure it's right
To kill, if I lie
It's the cycle of life
I'm psycho, all right
Come out of the night
Finding my victims
And then, with a whisper
My blade, it be shinin' like ice
And I been straight from the cold
Now I been makin' that dough
I fucked the ex in the throat
And I been takin' the notes
Breakin' the prophet, the prophet
The one that you ain't never know
And I sleep in the snow with the blade in my coat
Injured his team, I ran off (ho, bitch)
Everybody think I'm insane though
Put the bullets in my head until the rain comes
Homicidal, suicidal but I'm thankful that I ain't dead yet
And I'm still makin' them pesos
Next in line where the sinners all go
Down to hell where the flames all roll
I'm sittin' next to Satan, countin' up bank rolls
I'm relaxin' on my throne, fuckin' with some skank hoes
I've been letting my hair grow, your parents know
I'm the bad boy, I'm a scarecrow (I'm a scarecrow)
I'm sagging my pants, let the brand show
These damn hoes schemin'
Got the brand on my hand, ho
I come from the land where the Xans go quicker than the coke
Raise your hand if you can't cope with the damn cold
Seven feet of snow
What you need? We got it
Bleeding for deposits
Just bag it up and then you flip it for a sizable profit
The cops is on my dick, I'm 'bout to get this shit poppin'
I'm droppin' out this bitch and makin' money off of my music
Now it's one year later, still broke, still stupid
Still smoke my tooka, rest in peace Martin Luther
But Freddy Kruger all I'm dreaming 'bout, I can't see my future
I can't see my feet, this shit gets darker when it's deep
But I can breathe underwater, ask your daughter, I'm a freak
Peep
Ain't gon' find, just bring it out (yeah)
Bring it out, just fuckin' take it up
I got the money for that
Spirits comin' after me, I'm 'bout to start a tragedy
A murderous inferno, strike the matches and I grab the keys
I head up to the palace, cop a backwood like normality
But everybody knows that I'm a fucking abnormality
The ghost of Satan
The no-name flow with the pain in the rain
Gassin' the side of my grave with the ocean spray
Laugh when the bodies is dumped out of the trunk
Get the pump, put it up
Shoot it to God like I don't give a fuck
Killer for life
Just a kid with a knife
Figure it's right
To kill, if I lie
It's the cycle of life
I'm psycho, all right
Come out of the night
Finding my victims
And then, with a whisper
My blade, it be shinin' like ice
And I been straight from the cold
Now I been makin' that dough
I fucked the ex in the throat
And I been takin' the notes
Breakin' the prophet, the prophet
The one that you ain't never know
And I sleep in the snow with the blade in my coat
Injured his team, I ran off (ho, bitch)
Everybody think I'm insane though
Put the bullets in my head until the rain comes
Homicidal, suicidal but I'm thankful that I ain't dead yet
And I'm still makin' them pesos
Next in line where the sinners all go
Down to hell where the flames all roll
I'm sittin' next to Satan, countin' up bank rolls
I'm relaxin' on my throne, fuckin' with some skank hoes
I've been letting my hair grow, your parents know
I'm the bad boy, I'm a scarecrow (I'm a scarecrow)
I'm sagging my pants, let the brand show
These damn hoes schemin'
Got the brand on my hand, ho
I come from the land where the Xans go quicker than the coke
Raise your hand if you can't cope with the damn cold
Seven feet of snow
What you need? We got it
Bleeding for deposits
Just bag it up and then you flip it for a sizable profit
The cops is on my dick, I'm 'bout to get this shit poppin'
I'm droppin' out this bitch and makin' money off of my music
Now it's one year later, still broke, still stupid
Still smoke my tooka, rest in peace Martin Luther
But Freddy Kruger all I'm dreaming 'bout, I can't see my future
I can't see my feet, this shit gets darker when it's deep
But I can breathe underwater, ask your daughter, I'm a freak
Peep
Credits
Writer(s): Death Plus
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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