...SOUND

Well if I die, I prolly wouldn't make the newspaper
I keep score, get hot, you fools thought I was fugazi
Booze got my do crazy
Dues payin' make my two cents worth two shits
So my bones remain lazing and the
Day ones they been staying maintaining
New guys could make the cut, they just gotta stay training
Every day I push weight, my vein's pop they stay straining
Since I was one five and pushed eighths in sunshine or rain
Since he was 15, yeah, it made him mobile
Do 16's to the bass and poppin at least it's local
Hundreds to the spot, they fuckin' up with my vocals
Til' 24's under us and my rims they be goin' loco
Yeah, I'm just here to cure the frowns
And make 'em oh to 16's like the fuckin' Cleveland Browns
I concentrate bars and I concentrate bounce
If you ask me why I do it know I do it for the sound

If I die tomorrow at least I did it today
Breath smells like Bombay and decay
So bombs away
Fast lane to pain, yeah it gets so insane
Just piece it all together got no time to explain
Just tryna scorch your throat until nothin' remains
I'm the tonsil remover just lookin' for a brain to invade
The ear intruder runnin' off fumes and gatorade
Now I'm catchin' my breath, ain't got no time to respirate
So take a deep one and try to let it out
Go ahead and wipe the blood from off of your frown
I make your earholes bleed with everything from my mouth
And then I verbalize lines try and fit em up your snout
Huh, it's just the uppers and the downs
Can't believe I made it out with my cap and a gown
I conjugate verbs and annunciate nouns
And if you ask my why I do it, know I do it for the sound

And if you ask my why I do it, know I do it for the sound
And if you ask my why I do it, know I do it for the sound



Credits
Writer(s): Kyler Low
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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