Body Bags
(专辑: Nightmare On 66 - 2019)
[Ankthen Brown:] Yung nigga cud die Devils ain't a
li-iiiiiiiiiie Louis round my waist Hand up on da ni-iiiiiiine Is you down to ride Is you down to ri-iiiiiiide Yung nigga cud die Devils in da ni-iiiiiiight [Lex Luthoor:] Beamed up and I'm down to ride Mobbing with the
gang that's bonafide Got the
devil in my eyes that's fortified Got 4? O
5? Heaters get you mortified Get you body bags, tombstone and a
casket Chop him down, put his head in a
basket Burn him down till his pulse turn static Bring it back do it all again you bastard! You an asset, get your ass kicked! Massive! Talk that Talk! Why you tryna act Passive? Walk that walk! That shit automatic! Candy flip, got a
little bit of acid Like an addict, in the
attic, never panic When it's drastic, eyes satanic From another planet. Where the
plant hit! I
ain't with that talk shit, nigga fuck a
rhetoric! [Mic Rahman:] Is you down for the
long haul? Turn around and we long gone Goin rounds like we on call Move around like we on one In da vicinity I
know you feel it 80 decibel I
know you hear it Fuck around and you gon get it! Fuck around and you gon get it! Fuck you, make you wanna quit it Chump foo snitchin on em pigs Got blood from a
line of kings Out here making more than trends Dumb bitch got me vexed, though Spillin all dat Henny on my Uratex, hoe Gotem throwin out signs on set Steppin outta line, on brip [Ankhten Brown:] Louis round my waste Hand up on da niiiiiine Devils in my brain Can't waste no more tiiiiime Is you down to ride Is you down to riiiiiiide I've made up my mind Can't take no more liiiiies Sick of this bullshit. stressing Working hard, bitch im flexing In my mind, lethal weapons It don't kill me, it strengthens Yung nigga been flyin Heavens in my eyyyyeeees Yung nigga cud die Hell up on my liiiiiiiiiiine [Rjay Ty:] Who got the
juice?! (Yuh) I'm sipping, I'm sipping, ain't slipping but I'm getting loose (Yuh) My vision is flickering, flickering sparking a
fuse (Yuh) The
crew we be packing that fire tryna blow up the
booth (Yuh) Hand up on a
nine and my finger be itching to shoot (Yuh) Heard it through the
grapevine You just tryna fake shine We ain't playing games nah Sick up in the
brain type We just ain't the
same kind Told you we insane brah We ain't here to waste time