Murky

Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Head getting murky
Pour it up, and I'm adding a perky
Really I'm ducking, I'm swerving
Seventeen, fake pill what I'm serving
I need a mill, it's my purpose
I'm not a regular person
Faded all black in the back of Suburbans
I feel my feet getting numb
Moving with heat in the streets
To spitting out heat with the beat of the drum
Stepping in Neimans, I'm geeking
I got it, I'm beating
I'm leaving him slumped
Really a demon deceived me
I never could really believe that I won
I had a prayer on the tip of my tongue
Head on my shoulders, it's weighing a ton
Know that they never did see me
They never did see me
Believe me, I'm gone

I, got a little something for the fiends
I, got this big four fifth inside my jeans
I, might need to walk with it if I creep
All these demons in my bed so I don't sleep, nah

Baby bro eighteen and it's fifty K for the bail, uh (Fuck)
I told my other guys it would be okay
No, we cannot fail
I'm in an F-type with a ticket
Lil bro John Wick, he won't miss you
I got a Cuban I need a missile
Side bag full of dime bags, and them nickels, yeah
I'm in the kitchen I'm flicking a biscuit now
I was down bad outside and I got all these issues now
They would feel the same, how they mad at me
Saks Fifth'ing I could blow right through your salary, yeah, uh
You might feel the same
You might catch a grain
I need some managers and producers
I'm on the time line with a booster
My slime he slide in an Uber
Five K I'm outside, fuck you losers
I made a bucket fried she a prover
I got a lotta chips on my mind I don't chip for the shooter
On me, yeah
Chip on my shoulder
Crack fiends, these bad dreams, nah
Look at me now Mom, I'm in a Rover
They talking down but I'm gonna blow up
Studio - for weeks, I'm trying to blow
Better that than me fuck up the stove
Summer time I'm a fuck up a load
Oh oh, don't bang my phone
I'm tryna get to a higher place
Popping them addies, I'm popping them plates
I get a bag and I stay out the way
I saw it coming, no really it's fate
Maison Margeila or Dior today
I'm in a foreign, don't stop for the jakes
I'm in a whip with irregular tints, it's a regular day
Yeah, uh

Really they're all the same no
I can't give no blame out
I can't take the safe route
I can't take the safe route
Black trucks like a stake out
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I, got a little something for the fiends
I, got this big four fifth inside my jeans
I, might need to walk with it if I creep
All these demons in my bed so I don't sleep, nah

Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Head getting murky
Pour it up, and I'm adding a perky
Really I'm ducking, I'm swerving
Seventeen, fake pill what I'm serving
I need a mill, it's my purpose
I'm not a regular person
Faded all black in the back of Suburbans
I feel my feet getting numb
Moving with heat in the streets
To spitting out heat with the beat of the drum
Stepping in Neimans, I'm geeking
I got it, I'm beating
I'm leaving him slumped
Really a demon deceived me
I never could really believe that I won
I had a prayer on the tip of my tongue
Load on my shoulders, it's weighing a ton

(Got a little something for the fiends
I, got this big four fifth inside my jeans
I, might need to walk with it if I creep
These demons in my bed so I don't sleep, no)



Credits
Writer(s): Patrick Bommarito
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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