Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Hard Feelings, artist - Elaquent. Album song Blessing in Disguise, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.02.2019
Record label: Mello
Song language: English
No Hard Feelings |
Whether or not you understanding, this is the plot |
This is the end, Cudi on my speakers again |
Pop a script it got me ripping up my pages |
These words won’t live forever so a nigga gotta make them |
High as Seven Seals on the real I cook with the apron |
Today I’m feeling Cajun in a haven made for a pagan, yea |
Was infiltrated by niggas need me a Glock or something |
Shock a nigga leave the sock on top and rock it to 'em |
If this was the 80's I’d be flipping packs in the locker room |
Raised by Raegan babies we was taught to maneuver fumes |
Bachelor moods, hoping this bourbon won’t resurface |
Spatula flipping writtens into the oven furnace |
Brick by brick I tore it down like the crucifix |
That pinned me down as a young’n going through some shit |
Thoughts in the sewer now I’m really going through some shit |
And it’s no hard, and it’s no hard |
And its no hard feelings (None at all, none at all) |
And its no hard feelings (None at all, none at all) |
I’ma get this money without you |
I’ma get to drinking without you (Po' me up, po' me up) |
And its no hard feelings (None at all, none at all) |
And its no hard feelings (None at all, none at all) |
I’ma get this money without you |
I’ma get to drinking without you (Po' me up, po' me up) |
Get used to it |
Flew off the rail, nose grind unamused to it |
You are the muse that I amuse until the AM |
Refusing to sleep cause these raps do pay 'em |
By them I mean the bodies that I’m slaying |
Gatekeepers, wack niggas on the FM so |
F- them nah fuck y’all niggas |
Crowd favorite so they sent me here to murk y’all niggas |
Contracted in a cage with your face off nigga |
Been a time I only had a parking ticket to my name |
What you fabricate won’t activate inside the lane I’m in |
I mean them ends is worth nothing |
Bring the bag or keep it dumping |
I see headlines in my future |
But how when niggas flexing 8balls size of loofahs |
Or roofied in the coup with twenty women from Bermuda |
Super soak a ho repeatedly, went dipping with a scuba |
Who the fuck is you bruh? |
West Orlando from the bandos to the Barnett |
Park far from you lames if a target |
Scope feel safer from a range, kill your Margaret |
Skill-wise we are margins away |
Class of my own like Margiela skates |
I scoff as I blow fumes grown out of state |
State prop we the chain gang running up the block, nigga |
And its no hard feelings (None at all, none at all) |
And its no hard feelings (None at all, none at all) |
I’ma get this money without you |
I’ma get to drinking without you (Po' me up, po' me up) |
And its no hard feelings (None at all, none at all) |
And its no hard feelings (None at all, none at all) |
I’ma get this money without you |
I’ma get to drinking without you (Po' me up, po' me up) |