Got Blood on My New Sneakers
Got three knives on me
But I don't wanna use em'
If I have to though
I'll set your soul free
There's no excuses
She was your girl
But she left with me
Now you a loser
I can see right through ya
BHC, AF111C, where you be?
You'll be smoking weed
But I laced your shit with Kettamine
Glad bag filled up with Amphetamines
Girl, take my hand
It's just me, Lowly, yeah, you know me
We'll take it slowly
Baby, do you wanna die tonight?
Come with me into the light
I'll make it all, all right
Got three knives on me
But I don't wanna use em
If I have to though
I'll set your soul free
There's no excuses
She was your girl
But she left with me
Now you a loser
I can see right through ya
I'll be up next
With a pair of slit wrists
Dripped blood on my white Gucci sneakers
Boys coming up with the sneak dis'
I got shooters posted up on your street bitch
You can't fuck with this
No you can't fuck with this
You can't fuck with this
No you can't fuck with this
She want me to fly her out to visit me
Living out in Italy
Said that she loves me
Got three knives on me
But I don't wanna use em
If I have to though
I'll set your soul free
There's no excuses
She was your girl
But she left with me
Now you a loser
I can see right through ya
But I don't wanna use em'
If I have to though
I'll set your soul free
There's no excuses
She was your girl
But she left with me
Now you a loser
I can see right through ya
BHC, AF111C, where you be?
You'll be smoking weed
But I laced your shit with Kettamine
Glad bag filled up with Amphetamines
Girl, take my hand
It's just me, Lowly, yeah, you know me
We'll take it slowly
Baby, do you wanna die tonight?
Come with me into the light
I'll make it all, all right
Got three knives on me
But I don't wanna use em
If I have to though
I'll set your soul free
There's no excuses
She was your girl
But she left with me
Now you a loser
I can see right through ya
I'll be up next
With a pair of slit wrists
Dripped blood on my white Gucci sneakers
Boys coming up with the sneak dis'
I got shooters posted up on your street bitch
You can't fuck with this
No you can't fuck with this
You can't fuck with this
No you can't fuck with this
She want me to fly her out to visit me
Living out in Italy
Said that she loves me
Got three knives on me
But I don't wanna use em
If I have to though
I'll set your soul free
There's no excuses
She was your girl
But she left with me
Now you a loser
I can see right through ya
Credits
Writer(s): Lowly God
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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