Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Stronger, artist - Lupe Fiasco. Album song DROGAS WAVE, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.09.2018
Record label: 1st and 15th, Thirty Tigers
Song language: English
Stronger |
Opium to the ceiling |
All for the love of plugs, squealing «ugh», healing |
No more Timberland turf, you’re too soft for this |
Award-winning awkwardness you walking off into the office with |
In the rims with friends' ends like state trials and Paypals |
In nondescript homes in Arizona |
In sub-divided neighborhoods, with floors made of solid wood |
In roofs of clay tiles sits a couple million dollars |
Said I tried but the old me blew it |
Exactly how you knew I’d do it |
All my brothers, I would love to paint 'em Jewish |
Reinfiltrate the movement and assassinate the music |
Exaggerate the ass and face then masturbate to it |
The constituency brilliant, but the candidates are stupid |
I’m too rude to ask for nudes |
But way too ruthless not to pursue it |
Maybe, maybe you’ll feel me when I |
(Maybe you can feel me when I) |
Feel me when I say (feel me when I say) |
Whatever don’t kill me (if it don’t kill me, don’t kill me) |
Gets me through the day |
Chorus to the horses made her body porous |
Absorbing up the pork made 'em enormous |
Fear of rape made 'em informant |
Fully 'shroomed in the motel room waging the torment |
Never trust a dope fiend with your hopes and dreams |
Let 'em play in museums with the dead bodies and broken things |
What happens when the sugar barons meet the coca kings |
And they beam it into space |
Seem to be in place at the parent teacher conference |
With hallucinations screaming in her face |
The cleaning lady crazy, she say she got a demon in the safe |
But it’s eating through the back and soon be leaving through the gates |
The hollerer shouts, «Who's bright enough to pay a toddler |
To watch a ghoulish Oxycontin gobbler on Hanukkah?» |
Maybe a Phoenix-based multi-million dollar launderer |
Who fucked the cartels so bad, she attends court on the monitor |
Maybe, maybe you’ll feel me when I |
(Maybe you can feel me when I) |
Feel me when I say (feel me when I say) |
Whatever don’t kill me (if it don’t kill me, don’t kill me) |
Gets me through the day |
Bad trippin' through the tenderloin |
Slimmer than a slot to enter coins to let a nigga join |
A figure skater like Michelle Kwan |
Aluminum illuminated to a hail bomb, ice |
Then hold onto it like the L. Ron device |
Then pass the audition |
To the poor hands sided in maelstrom’s position |
Street sales in comparison pale to the Scottsdale bail bonds commission |
It’s like trappin' out the pawn shop |
Gettin' close to the magic like the wrappin' on the wand box |
Third layer from the wave |
And grant absurd last prayers and first favors from the grave |
To crack the pipes like icy nights and turn mayors into slaves |
Politics bring fevers to punish dealers |
Adjudicate the Jostens and stop the ring leaders |
The Geese Howards and King Ghidorahs |
Cook E in the family tree for steam fevers |
Maybe, maybe you’ll feel me when I |
(Maybe you can feel me when I) |
Feel me when I say (feel me when I say) |
Whatever don’t kill me (if it don’t kill me, don’t kill me) |
Gets me through the day |