Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Polaroid, artist - Melanin 9.
Date of issue: 16.11.2017
Song language: English
Polaroid |
The finger snaps the frame to the eye a fraction seen |
The world stops between the lens before we catch the dream |
From bagging green, breaking down boxes to purchase villas |
My girl went iller saw my first before she birthed the mirror |
The kerb with sinners liquor merged beneath the bourbon zipper |
Feds swerve with clips that burst they wish the purge to kill us |
Disturbed visions of my vicious art, with precision script the craft |
Every pixel is a distance image past |
From dipping class to chopping weights shift in top estates |
Some adopted Ks clicking Glocks where helicopters chase |
We fostered hate pocket blades scrape Courvois and haze |
Want my face to glisten with precision on the frosted chain |
My (?) became to study gods with the exulted ploy |
Shops open boys, feds watch like Shoguns poised |
We swipe for stolen droids vivid like a polaroid |
Descriptive photos of a violent bipolar boy |
Now where do I start where do I go |
They say the images we take steal a piece of our soul |
She’s pretty in the pictures but inside she’s hollow |
Look inside and get your third eye lens in control |
Now where do I start where do I go |
They say the images we take steal a piece of our soul |
Dodging the police for the dough in the belly of the beast |
That we roam got us losing our control |
The stargazer, Allah script the parchment paper |
Scarred like (?) dark liquor guava chaser |
I’m a calm embracer fast in Saddam with geisha |
Part the glacier masked in the dark Fantasia |
My arms equator filled with black paints (?) gods |
Ice planets around my wrist beneath a woven cloth |
The young disposed inside a spliff before they focus rots |
Evictions open (?) stick you from ferocious plots |
I paint spirits with pens spill the ink and leave a print on your lens |
Split the image with a cynic pretence |
Stick your bitch with her promiscuous friends |
Polar boy pics my scripts where the pernicious offend |
I could vividly blend a cold nexus from my penmanship |
From these dirty steps where I developed all my negatives |
Seen through an opaque lens from the age is ten |
Learn that pictures paint a thousand words when I scrape the pen |
Now where do I start where do I go |
They say the images we take steal a piece of our soul |
She’s pretty in the pictures but inside she’s hollow |
Look inside and get your third eye lens in control |
Now where do I start where do I go |
They say the images we take steal a piece of our soul |
Dodging the police for the dough in the belly of the beast |
That we roam got us losing our control |
Now where do I start where do I go |
They say the images we take steal a piece of our soul |
Now where do I start where do I go |
They say the images we take steal a piece of our soul |