Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Full Metal Dummy, artist - Cemetery Drive. Date of issue: 24.09.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Full Metal Dummy |
| Borderline psychopath, pull it back |
| Let it blast, then relax, I’m over shit |
| Dollar signs on my mind, all the time |
| On the grind, I will find the golden clips |
| I think I lost my marbles (where'd they go?) |
| Keep a couple rolls packed inside my cargos (I don’t know) |
| Keep a couple screws all loosey-goosey |
| Keep my shit wide open, you can see right through me |
| Didn’t think necks could articulate like that |
| People gave y’all props, I’ma take mine back |
| I’m like Akon back in his Konvict days |
| «Smack that,» let me take all the blame |
| I got so many plaques on my wall of shame |
| I had so much plaque in my mouth again |
| They say that boy quite nice like the south of France |
| Tryna bring them back to life like alchemy |
| Wait, Thiago is full metal |
| Planting evidence like Iago in Othello |
| Catch hands, mano a mano we gon settle |
| Advance, flowering up with no petals |
| I need a million dollars |
| Bad bitches who all swallow |
| Self esteem, common sense |
| Shots of liquor, confidence |
| Lots of friends, lots of foes |
| Happiness, I suppose |
| But the world keep telling me shit ain’t free baby |
| Positivity ain’t for me baby |
| Dilated dialogue dark thoughts tag along |
| What you want? |
| A cookie or something? |
| What you taking me for nigga, a rookie or something? |
| I deserve me a medal, am I a Wookiee or something? |
| Steady living in hell, can He cook me or something |
| But everybody need me and everybody bleed me |
| Everybody line up in lines just to see me |
| Funeral pyre, forever been on fire nigga |
| Pull up on the scene like Gump, Gump, Gump Gump |
| Run shit, yeah run dun da dun dun |
| We don’t really give a fuck what you want |
| Yeah we be goin' dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Yeah we be goin' dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Yeah we be goin' dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Rolling up the Bible paper, I’m so close |
| You won’t ever find no vape in my photos |
| Adventure time, but feeling like Jojo’s |
| Thinking you the last real one, but you Momo |
| Oh no, say bye when you see me |
| ‘Cause it just might be the last time |
| I get the vibe mixed it when it lag |
| I’m tired of being so fake, it’s a drag |
| Yea talk about fashionably late, Time Crisis |
| It’s 2019 and you still wear Osiris |
| The look on your face man, that shit is priceless |
| Grinding the finest of joints, heh, arthritis |
| In Brazil with Thiago, pass the fuego |
| They don’t believe the movement man I feel like Galileo |
| Yeah the stone face see through, wrist is just a veil |
| All your hate overhead, bitch I’m Gareth Bale |
| I would like to see you try, motherfucker |
| We always dressed in black, yeah fuck the other colors |
| Man is paper cut covered cos' he shower in his money |
| All you rappers jokes, but none of you is funny |
| We the real deal, I built this all from the ground up |
| Listen to our music man you never heard this sound f |
| And when you think you got the edge, man we counter |
| Cemetery Drive, changing everything around us |
| Borderline psychopath, pull it back |
| Let it blast, then relax, I’m over shit |
| Dollar signs on my mind, all the time |
| On the grind, I will find the golden clips |
| I ain’t selling dope but this shit hella dope |
| And I been selling it like selling dope («Oh you selling dope then?») |
| Nope, that’s a metaphor hoe, it ain’t literal |
| Little Bo-Peep lotta sheep I’ma let 'em go |
| Don’t fear me when wolf bear teeth |
| I need funds like OPB, that’s 503 talk |
| Violent fuck a peace talk, vibin' till my knees lock |
| And I leave chalk on the pavement, what a day man! |
| Blood on my jeans and my grey flannel |
| You can huff a couple fumes but you ain’t Van Gogh |
| My paint can overflowing yo, don’t you see these hands dummy? |
| See these CD fans love me like duh, I’m young money |
| Mr. Nothing’s Funny, old at heart, I don’t fuck with twenty-somethings |
| And their fuckshit, tell me who you fuck with |
| Tell me what’s the fuss kid, I see your sus slick shit |
| Got twists like I’m Biskwiq, switch it up like a stick shift |
| Pull up on the scene like Gump, Gump, Gump Gump |
| Run shit, yeah run dun da dun dun |
| We don’t really give a fuck what you want |
| Yeah we be goin' dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Yeah we be goin' dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Dumb dumb dumb dumb |
| Yeah we be goin' dumb dumb dumb dumb |