| It makes it easier, easier to bear
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| You won’t regret it, no, no
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| No, girl they won’t forget it
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| Love is their own
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| Happiness yeah
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| Sq-sq-sq-squeeze her, don’t tease her
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| Never leave her
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| Sounds so soulful don’t you agree
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| I invented swag
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| Poppin' bottles, puttin' supermodels in the cab, proof
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| I guess I got my swagger back, truth
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| New watch alert, Hublot’s
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| Or the big face Rollie I got two of those
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| Arm out the window through the city I maneuver slow
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| Cap back, snap back
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| See my cut through the holes
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| Damn Yeezy and Hov
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| Where the hell ya been?
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| Niggas talkin real reckless: stuntmen
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| I adopted these niggas, Phillip Drummond 'em
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| Now I’m bout to make them tuck they whole summer in
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| They say I’m crazy, well, I’m 'bout to go dumb again
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| They ain’t see me cause I pulled up in my other Benz
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| Last week I was in my other other Benz
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| Throw your diamonds up cause we in this bitch another 'gain
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| Photo shoot fresh, looking like wealth
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| I’m 'bout to call the paparazzi on myself
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| Uh, live form the Mercer
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| Run up on Yeezy the wrong way, I might murk ya
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| Flee in the G450 I might surface
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| Political refugee, asylum can be purchased
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| Uh, everythings for sale, I got 5 passports
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| I’m never going to jail
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| I made «Jesus Walk» so I’m never going to hell
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| Couture level flow, it’s never going on sale
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| Luxury rap, the Hermes of verses
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| Sophisticated ignorance, write my curses in cursive
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| I get it custom, you a customer
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| You ain’t 'customed to going through Customs, you ain’t been nowhere, huh?
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| And all the ladies in the house, got 'em showing off
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| I’m done, I hit ya up mana-naaaa!
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| Welcome to Havana
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| Smoking cubanos with Castro in cabanas
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| Viva Mexico, Cubano
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| Dominicano, all the plugs that I know
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| Driving Benzes, wit' no benefits
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| Not bad huh? |
| For some immigrants
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| Build your fences, we diggin' tunnels
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| Can’t you see? |
| We gettin' money up under you
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| Can’t you see the private jets flyin' over you?
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| Maybach bumper sticker read «What would Hova do?»
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| Jay is chillin', 'Ye is chillin'
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| What more can I say? |
| We killin' 'em
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| Hold up, before we end this campaign
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| As you can see, we done bodied the damn lames
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| Lord, please let them accept the things they can’t change
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| And pray that all of their pain be champagne |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Make Me Wanna Die, artist - Chords of Chaos. Album song Fluorescent Adolescent: Alt Rock, in the genre Иностранный рок