Lyrics Speed - Checkmark, Slaine, Termanology

Speed

My little son’s my dude, he’s only three years old
His mother look at me and wonder, will he be as bold?
Will his heart be warmer, will he be as cold?
Is his father much harder with the bleedin' soul?
A fifth of whiskey and a gun inside his vehicle
Runnin' like a breedin' bull 'till he give the weed a pull
Superman spittin' back with the speedin' bullets
High as a helicopter, fly with the smell of vodka
You hear them hammers bangin'?
Then you can tell us proper
And the dog is an alcoholic, he got his guts leakin'
He ain’t afraid of nothin' now, that’s just his nuts speakin'
That ain’t a gangsta party, homie, that’s a plush weekend
You ain’t lived the fast life, you just got a slut tweakin'
So live it that trife, revel the devil
I’m drinkin' * bottles with the pedal to the metal, come on
The speed is all we know, don’t know how to live slow
We can’t outrun the past no matter how fast we go
The future’s behind me, no way that you can find me
The speed is all we know, don’t know how to live slow
A live wire, ready to rock, ox in the pocket
Private stocked bottles, me and Eddie would talk
About the ways to get the paper, stayed evadin' the cops
Main thing we had in common was we hated our pops
One chose the fast life, one wanted to live the rap life
Readin' Native Son, inspired by Richard Wright
The other left a night, sunshinin' was his cryptonite
Driven by the cash, * * * * crack pipe
That’s life when schizophrenic minds collide
Two sides to every story, only mine’s alive
Ironic after a tidal wave of vital signs
The bad guy speakin' when the tide subsides
There’s no prize in winnin' a race against fate
When I meet the maker I wanna spit in his face
They say the good die young, I’ll be an old disgrace
I see my brother in an urn and I should be in his place, I’m fucked
I never live slowly, used to live lonely
Started chasin' that Cudi money to buy a roley
Never got a roley, but I got my homies
And two beautiful kids, I better drive slowly
Cause life ain’t fear
Speed up, too fast, you could die right there
You could get the electric chair and get fried right there
Get shot up, and get dreams and have nightmares
Best prepare, never know when your test is near
Cause them Tecs’ll glare when them checks don’t clear
Try to keep my mind clear, but why am I here?
So many questions, I gave God a questionnaire
But if the question here is «When will I stop?»
Doin' drugs, gettin' drunk, how many pills will I pop?
How many drugs will I sell?
How many * * *?
Well, I thought I told you that we won’t stop