Pass Over (feat. André DeSaint)

As much as I really don't mention my viewings
I'm desensitized to it
Only way I can get it off is when I vent in my music
All the squares on the block I'm spinnin' turned that shit Rubik's
Full metal jacket got me shining boy I'm feeling like Kubrick
She kneeling down begging me not to go
This shit gets hot around this time of year like coils on stoves
Boil my gold drop some oil in soda and slowed
I got it to the sky from the soil ain't fold
Y'all talk that talk but boy oh boy y'all ain't bold
Y'all niggas gettin' too old pockets ain't swole
Your head empty and this knowledge ain't sold
And if it's on you it ain't within your soul
Wild and cold not a flow or style exists that Hell'z Own done stole
Hell'z Own the metaphysical GOAT
Y'all lil' choaches it's the big Gar
Y'all niggas just a bunch of fuckin' roaches
Mackin' dirty foots at parties then braggin' like you baggin' Oprah
Topaz ring in her navel when I'm standing over
Y'all should call me Hebrew how I'm passing over
Lappin' over all the competition
Action-packed within this motion picture
It was written like a tattoo on a forearm nigga quote this scripture
Man fuck it just make sure you listen

I'm in your ear I'm on they ass I'm in the airways
Y'all just gotta make sure that they keep a clear space
Man fuck that bust that touch racks get your fuckin' paper
Let 'em know that we ain't fuckin' playin' anymore
I'm in your ear I'm on they ass I'm in the airways
Y'all just gotta make sure that they keep a clear space
Man fuck that bust that touch racks get your fuckin' paper
Let 'em know that we ain't fuckin' playin' anymore

I don't need advice from you niggas you can keep the speech
Them bills coming day to day
That money coming week to week
I move around with purpose and intention
I don't speak to speak
Rest in peace to Kay Slay
I'm still trying to sweep the streets
Maintain a deep mystique
keep it brief
I see you breaking neck trying to peep the deets
My shortie got a sleek physique
I'm trying to count something daily
Look, I don't leave the house unless you pay me
And it's extra if I crease my sneaks
When I walk around the city it's a meet and greet
Your girl tuned into my story like I'm Freaky Zeke
plotting on a Jesus Piece
I'ma be a legend soon
I see them boys trying ride my wave but there's never room
I should sell it to them
They already lining up
We told y'all to count them and them bodies still piling up
You see it clearly once you spend a little time with us
I'm giving y'all the blueprint now, throw your diamonds up
SAINT

I'm in your ear I'm on they ass I'm in the airways
Y'all just gotta make sure that they keep a clear space
Man fuck that bust that touch racks get your fuckin' paper
Let 'em know that we ain't fuckin' playin' anymore
I'm in your ear I'm on they ass I'm in the airways
Y'all just gotta make sure that they keep a clear space
Man fuck that bust that touch racks get your fuckin' paper
Let 'em know that we ain't fuckin' playin' anymore



Credits
Writer(s): André Clarke, Elton Pichardo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link