Stockholm

I feel like the CroMags, these some fucking hard times
Bitch, I'm off track
Like the Pixies, I done lost my mind
Boy, you think your shit's wicked
Bet it is, I won't deny
That your head's racing
But mine's stuck in the ceiling fan tonight, bitch

So you might wanna duck like a sidechained kick
Or you really gon' feel that low end hit
If you got a bullet for me, go 'head And rack some shit up
I'm sick of living life like this

I'ma be in Stockholm
With a blade under my shirt
Make a poor decision
Your reality'll start to surf
Be my guest, dickhead, lowly peasant
This time's not the first
On some Yung Lean shit
I'ma make you fucking hurt

Do you think you'll let out cries like Wind through the night
Or will you head out this Earth, boy Ever so quiet?
Like the trees keeping secrets
Where sheep once lie
After witnessing a wolf
Like me come by

I feel like the CroMags
These some fucking hard times
Bitch, I'm off track
Like the Pixies, I done lost my mind
Boy, you think your shit's wicked
Bet it is, I won't deny
That your head's racing
But mine's stuck in the ceiling fan tonight, bitch



Credits
Writer(s): Brett Hayes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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