album cover
Broke Language
Hip-Hop/Rap
Broke Language was released on March 12, 2022 by Hoodzone Digital Sounds as a part of the album Wolf Dont Sleep
album cover
Release DateMarch 12, 2022
LabelHoodzone Digital Sounds
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM91

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Solidus
Solidus
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Anton Tyrone Webb
Anton Tyrone Webb
Songwriter

Lyrics

May the gods give me patience for I'm lacking it in fucks
Baby, please say my name when I'm squeezin' in them guts
It's a difference when you're true, I cannot respect the mask
I'm the pinnacle of forward, I'm just humble to my past
New direction, better guidance, all them peasants, they still mad
Lost some brothers to they dick, just to talk shit to a bitch
Expert with the work, exhort the perks when I board at the port
Flawless B.B.W., caramel may be overboard Went to school in public streets, probably
pointed at your peeps 35 with 22 year old rage still
don't give a bleep Bitter still for Emmett Till, squeeze the
trigger, love the feel deciding make a **** real, life of limits
couldn't heal Made it clear that I don't play, childish games perk up the K Tune you up on auto, bullets make you waddle
Lay down on the pavement, it's your final lay, bitch
Run your pocket for your last, in advance, so make it last
This ain't broke **** language, this some real-time boss shit
Cancel me a bitch with no talent, no regards, bitch
Fuckin' on the thot, she been prayin' to eat this dick
When this wreck, you call your crew, it's just me and thirty sticks
I know all about the edge, I done dangled off the cliff
Burnin' kush for my spirit, like my speakers, you can hear it
Gino monetize the sound, all you less thans hear it
We been rockin' since that Kaiser padlock, you at your jacket
Fuck democracy, I'm ratchet, shoot for sure, my aim immaculate
I'm shootin' shit for real and I ain't talkin' bout the flatulence
Likes, love, views, people out here livin' triflin
I'm countin' up my bags and I count on rifle barreling
Here lies whoever in the portrait like a Marilyn
Dead dicks anonymous, exit wound hypotomous
Hunger for the doe,a deep desire, anger bottomless
Lookin' down the sight, inside the bushes, when I thought of it
I offer earth and water like a promise from the Persian
Revising my way of talkin', professional with the sparkin
Conversations, then walkin', then it's quickly to the stalkin
Replay them brave words because we pass a part of caution
Fuck
Written by: Anton Tyrone Webb
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