Angel
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Frozen, soulless
My brain won't overload this
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Hide it, stow it, sell my soul for locusts
I'm never in slow motion cus my life be moving quick
Got my eyes on the glock but my hands up on a brick
I hope you play cards right cus lil homie you ain't fucking slick
I'm tired of all the pussies that wanna play around with blicks
They already took my homie, that shit made me fuckin sick
And i skipped up on his funeral outta respect for his name
This ain't no game, but big homie know i mf miss you
We ain't talk enough but bro we ain't never had to issue
I know the homie pat still be wishing it was him
But dog that's just how it is when shit breaks the rim
This the type of shit that make the reaper motherfuckin grim
The type of shit that make the demons motherfuckin grin
Nine millimeter don't apologize
Big 47 tell 100 lies
Honey close your eyes
We letting bullets fly
I do this all the time
We letting dollars die
What the money really worth when you buried dirt
Or you locked behind the bars and you carry in the hurt
When yo momma scream ya name but you can't say nun back
When you missing all yo sisters dances ain't no fun in that
Cus when your blood be running thin
And the pastor starts to sing
While you lowered in yo casket
Homie ain't no coming in
Already lost ya fucking chin
To a 12 gauge wit a beam
Imma smoke my russian cream
Help me think about the team
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Frozen, soulless
My brain won't overload this
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Hide it, stow it, sell my soul for locusts
(Broken, hopeless)
(Cut my heart right open)
(Frozen, soulless)
(My brain won't overload this)
(Broken, hopeless)
(Cut my heart right open)
(Hide it, stow it, sell my soul for locusts)
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Frozen, soulless
My brain won't overload this
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Hide it, stow it, sell my soul for locusts
Everybody toting guns till it come to be a killer
Everybody gangsta, till it come to pull the trigger
Group grave gettin bigger, that's why i'm pouring out this liquor
Gotta hope to jesus christ that my draw may be quicker
Cus they wanna take my money, take my clothes and respect
Cus they trippin like i'm funny, i got a knife and a tech
I hope you think i'm funny, when i slash right thru ya neck
Now yo blood it drip like honey and it tastes like some yak
I'm going brainless so berserk
Get to hustling get to work
Cannot live a life of poverty
I'm reaching for the glock
Get the keys for the whip,
Got a mask just like a sock
Catch me skirting around the corner
Wit my lean and knock
Got me thinkin bout the homies that are dead or got locked up
Got me thinkin how one move get you fedded out or shot up
And the sun as good as moon when you standing in a hot tub
And pyrite as good as gold when yo momma getting shot up
Hit the road now i see my motherfuckin target
This the day i get him back
For hitting a lick on all my pack
He walking with his sister got his hands up on her back
Load the clip, pull the hammer right on back
Now right now he lookin happy, but that smile lookin wack
Put the sights up on his sister, now there ain't no turning back
He shoulda understood not mess wit homie in a all black
Now he gonna taste the motherfuckin wrath
LLB3X
Cut my heart right open
Frozen, soulless
My brain won't overload this
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Hide it, stow it, sell my soul for locusts
I'm never in slow motion cus my life be moving quick
Got my eyes on the glock but my hands up on a brick
I hope you play cards right cus lil homie you ain't fucking slick
I'm tired of all the pussies that wanna play around with blicks
They already took my homie, that shit made me fuckin sick
And i skipped up on his funeral outta respect for his name
This ain't no game, but big homie know i mf miss you
We ain't talk enough but bro we ain't never had to issue
I know the homie pat still be wishing it was him
But dog that's just how it is when shit breaks the rim
This the type of shit that make the reaper motherfuckin grim
The type of shit that make the demons motherfuckin grin
Nine millimeter don't apologize
Big 47 tell 100 lies
Honey close your eyes
We letting bullets fly
I do this all the time
We letting dollars die
What the money really worth when you buried dirt
Or you locked behind the bars and you carry in the hurt
When yo momma scream ya name but you can't say nun back
When you missing all yo sisters dances ain't no fun in that
Cus when your blood be running thin
And the pastor starts to sing
While you lowered in yo casket
Homie ain't no coming in
Already lost ya fucking chin
To a 12 gauge wit a beam
Imma smoke my russian cream
Help me think about the team
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Frozen, soulless
My brain won't overload this
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Hide it, stow it, sell my soul for locusts
(Broken, hopeless)
(Cut my heart right open)
(Frozen, soulless)
(My brain won't overload this)
(Broken, hopeless)
(Cut my heart right open)
(Hide it, stow it, sell my soul for locusts)
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Frozen, soulless
My brain won't overload this
Broken, hopeless
Cut my heart right open
Hide it, stow it, sell my soul for locusts
Everybody toting guns till it come to be a killer
Everybody gangsta, till it come to pull the trigger
Group grave gettin bigger, that's why i'm pouring out this liquor
Gotta hope to jesus christ that my draw may be quicker
Cus they wanna take my money, take my clothes and respect
Cus they trippin like i'm funny, i got a knife and a tech
I hope you think i'm funny, when i slash right thru ya neck
Now yo blood it drip like honey and it tastes like some yak
I'm going brainless so berserk
Get to hustling get to work
Cannot live a life of poverty
I'm reaching for the glock
Get the keys for the whip,
Got a mask just like a sock
Catch me skirting around the corner
Wit my lean and knock
Got me thinkin bout the homies that are dead or got locked up
Got me thinkin how one move get you fedded out or shot up
And the sun as good as moon when you standing in a hot tub
And pyrite as good as gold when yo momma getting shot up
Hit the road now i see my motherfuckin target
This the day i get him back
For hitting a lick on all my pack
He walking with his sister got his hands up on her back
Load the clip, pull the hammer right on back
Now right now he lookin happy, but that smile lookin wack
Put the sights up on his sister, now there ain't no turning back
He shoulda understood not mess wit homie in a all black
Now he gonna taste the motherfuckin wrath
LLB3X
Credits
Writer(s): Claudio Turati
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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