Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hunter, artist - Armand Hammer. Album song Paraffin, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 29.08.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Backwoodz Studioz
Song language: English
Hunter |
| Data madden galactic flows |
| Shitty crack bundles litter my path back home |
| Following looping drones over familiar smoker’s cough |
| Pipe glass scorch third-degree |
| Every verse curse the beat, purposefully |
| That’s word to me |
| Everything begins with intention |
| Pending addendum to the book of coming forth by day |
| Lose your life trying to ride this wave |
| Damn straight, cream rise like tide |
| I’m taking mines off top |
| Knowing what it’s like to cha-cha slide |
| When it’s time to pay |
| I’m good at these ghetto games |
| I’m good at these ghetto games |
| Brains got blue, coop he’s flew |
| Few states remove |
| Titty deep in the Gullah swamp with a view |
| Flora, fauna and bandwidth drop me a line |
| I eat too much pussy to be a Rasta |
| Smoke 'em if they got 'em |
| My first pull was chocolate from a chalice |
| Many mansions, many mansions |
| Slanted room of solid ground |
| Scenic with rocky route |
| Too sweet, pull a tooth, free screamings |
| I told papi to chill on selling babies Hot Takis and blue juice |
| They weighed me down |
| Black crow perched upon chimney pipe |
| Dark as your worst night |
| Heroin dealers crane they necks against the absence of light |
| Curses and stones thrown, but it didn’t take flight |
| I laughed at how they tight |
| Called on god between moans |
| But can’t shake the feeling she faking, homes |
| My last meal was my own heart |
| You’ll take the deal, if you smart |
| Better yet, time’s a flat circle |
| Take the wheel and depart |
| It’s you or them, it ain’t no friends |
| Guns come out with the icey men |
| Here we go again, again |
| I only write for the dead, who sinned of the flesh |
| Lawfully wed, close range to the chest |
| Houston, it’s spread |
| Crane of the neck, take heed it’s a pledge |
| Spitting wheels when greed drove a wedge |
| Brokered a deal, now move, take the spread |
| Plasma congeals, more grounded than red |
| Taste of iron and lead |
| If you lie you’re steel, tough guys don’t squeal |
| Aim for his face, divided what’s real |
| You’re a fly in the web, riot for bread |
| Swipe crumb from the edge |
| Faithful tithing ten percent |
| Prophesied, I wouldn’t rumba with the reaper |
| My brother’s keeper, a chosen child amongst the people |
| Arbitrary evils, force lethal |
| What isn’t, isn’t legal |
| Hard to hear the trumpet |
| I’m a deep sleeper, but I feel like I’ve been running |
| It be sudden, it be sluggish the the blood through fatty arteries |
| Be ye at the ready, I can’t hide, this all a part of me |
| Presidential pardons, on the mama’s, keep my body strong |
| A moving target in the killing fields, cunning skill |
| Unbroken will, but I be so fucking weary |
| Whistle past the graveyard running errands |
| Without warning, courting heaven |
| Seven is the number, snatched up by the hunter |
| Speaking to an unframed sky |
| Hearing there’s no why sometimes |
| Fear behind the eyes don’t hide |
| If we gotta ride let’s ride |
| If we gotta ride let’s ride |
| Speaking to an unframed sky |
| Hearing there’s no why sometimes |
| Fear behind the eyes don’t hide |
| If we gotta ride, let’s ride |
| If we gotta ride, let’s ride |
| Speaking to an unframed sky |
| Hearing there’s no why sometimes |
| Fear behind the eyes don’t hide |
| If we gotta ride, let’s ride |
| Rise, rise, rise |