Paranoia
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Paranoia paranoia
I'll turn you fuckers red
Ion know ya never known ya so what will I regret
Paranoia paranoia
You think that I'm misled
Staring at ya staring at ya I'll stain ya fuckin threads
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Ion let no pig talk
That's a real nice wristwatch
Aye he can't tell the time if his eyes sitting criss-crossed
All my bitches top notch hit the gas like nonstop
Floored to the morgue it's da clique full of hard knocks
Patches on my denim
30 hit him n condemn him huh
Ian even stressing if he seizing its a blessing huh
Catch him when I catch him if he breathing then I'm squeezing huh
Wet him like sum dressing I ain't scared to leave a mess and I ain't cleaning up for nothing
Leave his body buzzing
He was fuckin wit my homie now the man's a missin husband
My head can let it go but my brain really doesn't
I really need the heat like I'm in the fuckin oven
And no I ain't a beta I'm the one right above it
So if you in a pack bitch you rolled like a Russian
Cream of the crop I'm the reason bitches blushing
Ion trust a soul around me but I still love them that's the
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Paranoia paranoia
I'll turn you fuckers red
Ion know ya never known ya so what will I regret
Paranoia paranoia
You think that I'm misled
Staring at ya staring at ya I'll stain ya fuckin threads
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Tell me where yo god at
His angels on my ballsack
I done left my voicemails but the fucker never calls back
Like bitch yo where my pops at
Like bitch yo where my dawgs at
Like bitch I need a reason for I end up where the cops at
Hid outside the hotel with 40s n a dope smell
I'll snatch his fuckin wallet stomp his head in like a snail shell
Oh well fuck what can I say except farewell
I done freed you from this hell and now it's down the stairwell
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Paranoia paranoia
I'll turn you fuckers red
Ion know ya never known ya so what will I regret
Paranoia paranoia
You think that I'm misled
Staring at ya staring at ya I'll stain ya fuckin threads
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Ion let no pig talk
That's a real nice wristwatch
Aye he can't tell the time if his eyes sitting criss-crossed
All my bitches top notch hit the gas like nonstop
Floored to the morgue it's da clique full of hard knocks
Patches on my denim
30 hit him n condemn him huh
Ian even stressing if he seizing its a blessing huh
Catch him when I catch him if he breathing then I'm squeezing huh
Wet him like sum dressing I ain't scared to leave a mess and I ain't cleaning up for nothing
Leave his body buzzing
He was fuckin wit my homie now the man's a missin husband
My head can let it go but my brain really doesn't
I really need the heat like I'm in the fuckin oven
And no I ain't a beta I'm the one right above it
So if you in a pack bitch you rolled like a Russian
Cream of the crop I'm the reason bitches blushing
Ion trust a soul around me but I still love them that's the
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Paranoia paranoia
I'll turn you fuckers red
Ion know ya never known ya so what will I regret
Paranoia paranoia
You think that I'm misled
Staring at ya staring at ya I'll stain ya fuckin threads
Paranoia paranoia
It's all up in my head
It's the Era of the Era of the living dead
Tell me where yo god at
His angels on my ballsack
I done left my voicemails but the fucker never calls back
Like bitch yo where my pops at
Like bitch yo where my dawgs at
Like bitch I need a reason for I end up where the cops at
Hid outside the hotel with 40s n a dope smell
I'll snatch his fuckin wallet stomp his head in like a snail shell
Oh well fuck what can I say except farewell
I done freed you from this hell and now it's down the stairwell
Credits
Writer(s): Kyle Hall
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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