Letra

Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Overcast fame Wait until it rains flames Got an acid washed brain looking like bleach stains I blame the reign of fucking chains That's why all of us are tame Staying in a fucking cage I can't live this way While we harvest limited grain, they stay sipping cold Moet Satan hears me pray Yes I became his prey Blood leaks out my veins Got my palms pressed together as I whisper Namaste Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Yung Scarecrow with a couple pills foaming out my mouth Nicotine smoking mother fuckers out the south I cop a slug Spray 'em up Let 'em lay in blood Stuck in the mud sipping Tuss I can't give it up Don't give a fuck when the buds stuffed up in my blunt I'm saying please P-P-Please don't make me make a stain Hollow tips in your brain Body filled with pain Come feel the reign of the clinically insane Ho Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane What is that stain That is a mess Made on your shirt Sunk on your chest Dripping out wet and I'm leaving the set Taking your heart with no evidence left Better expect To run out of breath Your life will consist of the end of reality Tell the po-lice I'm baraka on coppas' The "Kombat" is mortal from all the brutalities Put in the work with the deadliest faculties This is a robbery coming to piece Visit the haters vacate in the heat The devils are proud of me now that I teach it The classes are over I am released The classes to wake up the students asleep These musical chairs the prettiest seats Because me really love to make a stang Mr. high-capper, don't make me touch ya mane
Writer(s): Aristos Petrou, Scott Arcenaux Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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