| This thing I love that started from the mud making nerds rich
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| It’s academic, but when rap invented this word snitch, we deserve this
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| It’s worthless, put pain on your browser so when you search this
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| The earth shift, the kiss of death, here’s the reaper to flirt with
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| I need Bieber to verse with, I put out hits and leave when the harse split
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| Get put out quick and heavd in the dirt ditch
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| Yeah, I can see you ain’t worth shit
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| Paid in full, still can’t believe when they murked Mitch
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| I’m ice cold, could never be sunny reading the first script
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| Your wife froze, refusing to see you bleed when the nurse stitched
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| Yeah, you fuck with me, you’re already screwed
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| A deadly dude, ain’t feeling you niggas, just think of Terry Crews
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| A petty dude, I shoot for the stars, whoever said he’d lose
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| I bet he bruised, an eye for an eye, that’s how this fetti move
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| It’s war, nigga, best believe that it’s war, nigga
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| Got your kids all tied up, I even the score, nigga
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| You don’t believe me, then draw, nigga
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| Started from the bottom, I got conceived on the floor, nigga
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| Pause nigga, washing these sins away when I pour liquor
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| Poor nigga, eating cheese sandwiches on the porch, nigga
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| Randy Nichols as Candyman
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| You’re like Samuel playing Steven, slaving in Candyland
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| Ayo, anonymous shooter sending me slugs
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| Times in my life, I ain’t even know who my enemies was
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| Now they’re all in memory of
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| I’m by myself, I refuse to be the company misery loves
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| Plotting schemes, got confidential exotic dreams
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| I’m a king and I done been through a lot of things
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| Rats put my kinfolk inside a bing
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| Niggas let the bugs in like an open window without a screen
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| Not a thing, I’m dodging informants
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| On tour, shit, I was performing with five different warrants
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| Helped guys provide for their daughters
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| Still they burn bridges like know how to survive underwater
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| Eating like it’s some kind of disorder
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| Gained a homicidal aura from monetizing the corners
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| Counting money since 5 in the morning
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| It took 23 hours to count it, remind me of driving to Florida
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| I’m quiet, not a dominant talker
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| Forgive me Father, one time, I prayed to God for a silent revolver
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| Huh, wished that I was a goner
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| Instead, I’m in a thousand-dollar robe sitting inside of a sauna
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| Trust! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Misery, artist - Ransom. Album song Directors Cut Scene 3, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп