Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sick Life, artist - Snowgoons. Album song Black Snow, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 23.06.2008
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Sick Life |
One fallen angel make over mankind and fuck with a mass mind |
The cross breeders rap, I’m a psychopath landmine |
The unstable, unbreakable, strike fatal |
The sick stick together like NATO |
One-eight-oh degrees, he’s now state-owned |
Lost in the city of angels with no halo |
It’s Hades on the surface, best to just stay low |
I’m like Hell on Earth while I’m under snake scales |
The sick-minded aligned with cliques drowned with |
Shots round with, brown fellows click Brownings |
Cops sounding sirens to get loud and |
Watch your back cause it could happen to you |
From the cradle to the grave with a shoe |
The psyche of the street remains in the brain of the LA zoo |
Crooked cops and the government set the blueprint |
For the gunmen, the black in the SA Coupe |
It’s the life of the trife, cross and get your wig spliced |
Meet Christ when you crap dice |
Drag my angel dust fights so my mind don’t think twice |
A journey in a mental street life |
They’ve been predicting the end of time for thousands of years now |
Chaos is all they sponsor, the monster serving their God |
Abominations of God, monster on the versus the occupation |
We wanna bring change but can’t really change ourselves |
In Hell we live no matter how much wealth you got |
Hope, that’s been forgot |
The big plot is taking place in our face, we all robots |
My thoughts I’ve been given in the streets, my gun |
That’s my religion, it protects and provides me vision |
It inspires and preach, keep it all at peace |
Meanwhile they all make loot for the beast |
There’s got to be a better way, a better day ahead |
Not a horrible death to men |
We have an army of soldiers and generals sin |
By the great mystery to protect what’s left |
It’s a race against time in these days we living |
Trying to keep my mind right, trying to stay out the prison |
They got us digging our own hole, sacrificing our own soul |
When 99.9 don’t know how it all goes |
I’m in that .1 percent fighting back control |
Thief planet, fist up ready to roll |
No, I won’t fold, bend, and break |
I know the shifts shape, they really snakes when the doors is closed |
Keep my head on a swivel, always watch for foes |
Homies say I’m p-noid cause I’m always ready |
For situations that cause me to react deadly |
What I spit to these melodies is written in stone |
Far from a clone, I’m in a frequency of my own |
Where few men have travelled is where I call home |
In my whole different zone where niggas stay drunk off rum and get blown |