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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
| Song: | You're Now Tuning In To 66.6 Fm With Dj Rapture |
| Album: | | Genres: | |
| Year: | | Length: | 134 sec |
Lyrics:
Sink back in that fucking spine, second-guessing crime 7th Ward where I snort a slug and cross the fucking line West Bank, Northside 'til the coffin ride Who am I? I am God; I am Basquiat
Trap-a-holics mixtapes Man, drop this shit for these fuck niggas
Grey*59 signed Rough diamonds, tryna shine Christ and I, $ui-$uicide You know, you know, you know I'm Diving head first when crucified Lucifer cried when I told him I'm choosing to die Noose and a knife, but I ain't use the knife To loosen the noose, keep it tight Abusing the truth, that's a lie Fuckboy with a ski mask think he gon' rob me blind? Fuckboy better think fast when he cock the nine Fuckboy better— Fuckboy better, sink back in that fucking spine, second-guessin' crime 7th Ward where I snort a slug and cross the fucking line Yet another line inside the cup, another line you should look up Another line that shook you up, I signed the line for Lucifer
Damn son, where'd you find this? Real trap shit
*59 'till I'm dead, ayy, yuh Bitch, I'm grey 'till the death, yeah, uh Never gave a fuck 'bout dyin', no, uh Even when I was a jit, woe Pop a jig, load the rig with that motherfucking China white Fuck it if I die tonight, I'm gamblin' with my fucking life West Bank, Northside 'til the coffin ride Who am I? I am God; I am Basquiat Yung Kurt Cobain with the scarred veins Mentally deranged, hear the crows say my name ('$carecrow') I'm just wastin' my time, I'm just wastin' my breath Why can't I just die? Why can't I go next? Why we get no respect? Why I love holdin' TECs? Xanax bar on my neck, I pop 'em, pop 'em 'til death This ain't no motherfuckin' trend, every day feel like the end Feed me, feed me medicine, so I can't feel my sins
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