07.03.2014
92
Rap
Tekst piosenki
[DICE]
Walking out an alley with an ounce up in your first
Tell em come to me when they’re addicted to the disc
Must’ve thought I was Carmelo, I ain’t playing with your nicks
I’m a mother fucking giant, I supply you with your fix
Tell me who I am, tell me who I am
You're a gunner? I’m the son of sam, tuck a ton of sand
Put a pile of a hundred grand in a rubber band
Undercover in your mothers van, trying to fuck the land
What’s it worth? I done met the dirt, trying to get desert
I was getting hurt, learned to get alert, I revert
To my underlying roots, I’m a fucking lion cooped
Inside a million violent troops, finna occupy your loot
From Long Island, not the cities little sister
Got your favorite artists bitches skinny dipping to my mixture
Got a little bit of everything, I put it on the mixer
So your bitch will have your printer printing copies of my picture
Fuck your liquor, audiopium, my audio is forming at four below
But I’m hot enough to make a crematory blow
Leave you all below, I’m rhyming out a Maury show
The way I father y’all from fucking rap up in the glory hole
[Bridge]
Fill it up, got you feeling high, feel it in your spine
Your invested in injecting while I’m nesting in your mind
Gotta want it, gotta have it, gotta never be without it
Gotta want it, gotta have it, gotta never be without it
[Hook x2]
Audiopium, drug the audience
Spit the purest, spine folds, accordion
China white, my black tar emporium
We ain’t got a needle, if you gotta fill
Dollar dollar bill
[DICE]
Make somebody wanna kill without it
Drive off hill without it
Slit a wrist without it, grind my disc
If your still without it, sniff
I ain’t a bitch, I’m a beat serial killer
Let it breathe, fuck your weed I’ll push five hundred a sleeve
Ten tapes a bundle, watch me turn it into profit
Spoon feeding these fans who want it with coffee grinders to chop it
Cop a pin, inject it in, son my records go off the list
Get withdrawals and wake up sick if you aren’t hearing my shit
If you aren’t feeling my mix, let my songs speak to you
Ain’t trying to win you pussies, I’m trying to eat through you
My lyrics rocking your will while your wallet's dropping the bills
And these pot heads fiending my tapes trying to cop and pop it like pills
If my records couldn’t be hot than these addicts wouldn’t be filled
I ain’t giving you nickles, dimes, I leave spines feeling a chill
I’m the reason your blood is mixing in pins when you get a whiff of it
Lifting these fiends who listening, fixing em up, addictionist
[Hook x2]
Audiopium, drug the audience
Spit the purest, spine folds, accordion
China white, my black tar emporium
We ain’t got a needle, if you gotta fill
Dollar dollar bill
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