| Sir! |
| Sir! |
| Sir! |
| Sir! |
| Sir!
|
| I think something’s wrong! |
| Nah, it’s okay
|
| Are you ready? |
| Are you ready?
|
| I be drunk walking steady
|
| Off the alcohol and medi
|
| I’m addicted to not thinking
|
| Are you ready? |
| Are you ready?
|
| I don’t think this nigga ready
|
| Why you talking like you is
|
| And then you isn’t, why you petty?
|
| Let me, let me, let me, let me
|
| Let me, let me, let me, let me
|
| If I keep using like I’m choosing to
|
| Then by the time I’m 50 you’ll be losing, dude
|
| I had to grow up, I had to humble myself
|
| This body is not mine, it is the people came before me
|
| And the moments make a story I’m ignoring
|
| Why I’m bugging? |
| I be tweaking, I be shrugging off the weekends
|
| Reefer reeking, reaping everything I sow, cut up a leaf and seed it
|
| Weakened, then I go proceed to blow
|
| How you moving slow in the river? |
| You gotta row, niggas hoes
|
| Fuck that shit, an impossible prick get
|
| Beat the fuck up outside his own show
|
| By some black kids, attacked, «Why you saying nigga, though?»
|
| You ain’t bring a trigger though, bitch, wanna spread pain?
|
| Been a lot of bitches sickened by the way I’m in they brain
|
| Seen you bought a fucking ticket, fill my pockets, you insane, figures
|
| Ain’t a person here finna listen through the shame, niggas
|
| Off it, stomp through the profit
|
| I might put your ideology in a coffin
|
| Fuck the bullshit infecting your mind
|
| Load a full clip of money not bullets you buy
|
| Fuck your color, fuck a follower amount
|
| What you about, nigga? |
| Shout if you tired of the clout
|
| Like, «I am», wet 'em up, «I am» wet 'em up
|
| «I hate everything you motherfuckers stand for»
|
| If I’m gonna die what the fuck I collect bands for, nigga?
|
| For the children, own a building on some land
|
| Fuck a Patek, fuck a Rollie, I’m a faggot, I’m the man, nigga, damn
|
| Do a hand stand tanning in the sand 'cause I can
|
| Highs and lows, I know a flow that might surprise you, though
|
| I keep pain inside my body, gotta let him out
|
| Scream 'til everything is tearing at the seams
|
| They don’t want none of that
|
| Fuck nigga talking out his butthole, for what tho?
|
| Every person I know hella cutthroat
|
| I’m rolling with a crutch, ho, but you the one disabled
|
| Think Cain hated Abel? |
| Lay his head on the table
|
| Now you is just a fable, looking like a bagel
|
| Are you ready? |
| Are you ready?
|
| I be drunk walking steady
|
| Off the alcohol and medi
|
| I’m addicted to not thinking
|
| Are you ready? |
| Are you ready?
|
| I don’t think this nigga ready
|
| Why you talking like you is
|
| And then you isn’t, why you petty?
|
| Off it, stomp through the profit
|
| I might put your ideology in a coffin
|
| Fuck the bullshit infecting your mind
|
| Load a full clip of money not bullets you buy
|
| High, see a Darkie fly thru the sky
|
| Cry when a nigga taking all my pie
|
| Why, when my nigga went inside? |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song COMPOSITION III IN RED, WHITE, AND BLACK, artist - Lil Darkie. Album song THIS DOES NOT EXIST, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп