False Idol - Old Skars lyrics

rate me

I’mma let your stomach covered

And you know you don’t mean no asset

Rap a nigga fagget

It’s over here

Roll the dice

Hold the mics

Life burns through you like poker lights

I keep the pokin’ right

Open spice

Can’ tell which is which

I toss my life

Now I’m fixing shit

No saliva or fingerprints

So all I give about is multiplying my difference

See it’s the same course for you all

The pursuit is big

Wanna merk them all

The hundreds for the cokies

4086 for some white bushes

Ain’t no waiting on you

Always wanna violate

Now you’re talking trial dates

I’m lookin’ at the sky

Wondering why I do some things that other hate

Goin’ over momma’s steaks

Everyone that I create

The honesty rapped inside a killer

Put the heart in me

Long side the drugs

And the women in the robbery

But don’t confuse the wisdom with philosophy

Just keep conquering

I still think about it illogically

I’ve been there a time or 2

But I ain’t trying to count back

And I’m outside the mouse trap

I know they got contracts

So I’ll keep my grass

Throw back the bottle

Deliver, put a date

And if I ever act tomorrow

I’ll be givin’ it away

My destiny is a magazine

And you know I never had a dream

Restricted to a cage

I try living right

Couldn’t find guidelines

And if I didn’t fight

I should have died 9 times

Life’s like a stare on a high rise

You’ll need the next step

I just need the next day

Never had my legs swept

Dancing on a wet stage

So I stay high and dry

Worry about what I’m gonna eat

But my food is the type you gonna eat with some hot sauce

This shit is hard to digest

Like the teeth when they’re knocked off

And I’ll we waiting until I’m 6 feet with my arms crossed

Old scars

Just throw the body out

It’s outside my hood shines

Your shine is not at all

Hundreds shade of grey

Get dust and shade away

Then you passed the limits

So the human body

Then go right back to my business

In my freakin’ front

We both shoot the body

Now I’m only in for the peace and the riches

But I’m still in the kitchen with your niece in my slippers

They ain’t fuckin’ trippin’

‘til the police fill their suspicion.