- morning mourning 歌詞 Styles P Oswin Benjamin
- 歌詞
- 專輯列表
- 歌手介紹
- Oswin Benjamin morning mourning 歌詞
- Styles P Oswin Benjamin
- Is this it, Priest? The Popes new army?
A few crusty bitches and a handful of rag-tags? Now, now, Bill... You swore this was a battle between warriors, Not a bunch of Miss Nancies So warriors is what I brought A cold heart and a hot slug is not love Them boysll pop up, leave you chopped up Theres a lot of pussy niggas But its not us Got cuffed, why you think Im frontin in a drop truck Grindin, I work real hard, it wasnt pot luck Lotta work in the pot, couple niggas was shot up The glorifying times or the horrifying crimes But the more I see the soft shit The more that Im inclined To let the real niggas know its all about the shine Let em get it in the sun, get your gun when the moon fall Soon to tell the goons meet the Ghost by the pool hall Cause when the rules get lost, its a fools fault Take a smart man to get in on the smooth course Singin you were never found by Lou Ross Thinkin can I live? Now the crib got two floors Cant snooze off, nor take my shoes off Lotta niggas is rude, that shitll throw your mood off Lotta niggas is cruel, tryna cut your fuel off Watch your ride die, no jump for you They aint pump you up But I bet you they got a pump for you Right here he said he would dump for you Then he went and left you for death They on hunt for you Maybe you just blind Or maybe you just fine with gettin lyin Cause you pussyby design, what! Mama told me to pray in the morning Im stuck here in the place tonight God forbid we dont make it to the mornin In the rain that I die, could be found in my moms eyes See the pain under her veil while she moaning Dont wait to pray til the morning Cause you may not make it home Yeah, you die if you violate, eyes dilate Knowing weed tryin vibrate Thirty-eight in my size nines win the tri-state Swim with the sharks, you a killa or you live bait Considered a titan although Im only five-eight Born in the jungle, made it out, I survived hate Run with gorillas, bang my chest like Im a primate Consider me a land pirate that knows the pie rate Get lined without a ruler Nine at your medulla for a lil bit of moolah Found his body chopped up in mexico in the cooler Right next to a shooter and his best friend It aint chess but they put him in, check then If you know the math on the wrath, he is less than From the south side, better hustle on the west end Pain and the stress gonna kill you if its kept in Ghost nigga Mama told me to pray in the morning Im stuck here in the place tonight God forbid we dont make it to the mornin In the rain that I die, could be found in my moms eyes See the pain under her veil while she moaning Dont wait to pray til the morning Cause you may not make it home
|
|