Créditos

COMPOSICIÓN Y LETRA
Stephen Dequan
Stephen Dequan
Autoría
Deven Merilus
Deven Merilus
Autoría
PRODUCCIÓN E INGENIERÍA
Turncoats
Turncoats
Producción

Letra

Never thought I see the day I'm preaching for enemies
Crawl to the end like centipede
A time and moment
Is only a memory
The moment to decide to play pretend with me
I'm pushing anger through negative energy
I triple six all of my particles
Play with the devil's seed
Why these **** testing me?
No Face, No Soul
Was more a bible then an album
Bunch a scriptures in the messaging
Trying to relax but
**** stressing me bout other ****
Bitches want dick in they liver
I'm supposed to find fits for grammy pictures
And 26 so close I got three more
That deadline coming soon and
I'ma end it so slow
Three months ago, I was running
Round the streets with bros
Now we passed, and
Most of the time
I shed these tears when I'm alone
Ain't no callback
I'm too busy breaking me a phone
When I should break me off a bitch
Who want some dick up in her dome
Understanding of alone
Only comes from my insecurities
Never found some clarity
To turn into a purer me
We anti lynch but
Hang a **** if he playing games
We anti snitch but if he switch
You better tell me names
No, I don't drive, but
Catch me speeding in the fast lane
And I won't shoot, but
We empty the clip inside your brain
And its crazy cause **** don't know how
Dangerous it gets when you playing
With that **** name steph
My words fall on deaf ears
That's why I only talk to death
Ain't got that many ways to move
So how the hell I feel like Meth?
Shoot up the car, the blood turn into a decal
Trauma heavy to the point
We make ya mama senile
It's sick
No, it's werewolf, haha
Aye, Dev
You a motherfucker for this one, bro
Aye, something gotta give
I was outside with my ****
Rolling up a cig
Aye, something gotta give
Written by: Deven Merilus, Stephen Dequan
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