Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Kill Yourself (Pt. II), artist - $uicideboy$. Date of issue: 02.03.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Kill Yourself (Pt. II) |
| They figured me a dead motherfucker |
| Calling me James Spleen |
| Without a cause of death I be the reaper with the black hood on his head |
| Yung Snow with the blood red sled |
| Puppet master |
| Bodies hanging on a thread motherfucker |
| Got a grey blade tatted on my wrist |
| I don’t really need to cut it anymore and I don’t really need a bitch |
| Let her rot in the hole |
| Months later she was found just a skull |
| She was missing all her bones |
| Got her headless skeleton hanging on my wall looking elegant |
| Black suede element |
| Packing blades |
| Lacking Benjamins |
| Horns on my head looking like the tusks of a grey elephant |
| Looking for my medicine |
| Plucking the bud off of a nug |
| Roll it up in a blunt |
| Now I feel fucking dead again |
| Looking for a place to belong |
| So I say fuck God fuck the motherfucking President |
| Address the American residence with just a knife and the help of a relative |
| Yeah that’s $lick $loth |
| Both of us buried Ruby da Cherry under a criss-crossed cross |
| Covered up with a little bit of moss |
| Looking like a glossed out Yung Jack Frost |
| Paid the cost to be the boss |
| Now I ain’t fucking dead but my life has been lost |
| Isn’t it so convincing how I’m breathing down your neck? |
| Junkies in the back loading up the tec |
| Fuck her one time now I’m done |
| Homicide any time for the thrill |
| One, two, three, four pills |
| You know a junkie can’t afford to get ill |
| See me I don’t fuck with you suckas |
| They call me the shooter like I play for Rucker |
| Smokey on Friday they call me Chris Tucker |
| I swear on my life I don’t fuck with you fuckers |
| $uicide cock it back one time and I shoot it |
| Keep it low key always gotta keep it moving |
| Bitches be worried bout what I am doing |
| Cause they love $licky so much all because of my music |
| It’s the Mac with the gat that goes click clack shoot a mother fuckers back |
| Brains go splat |
| No time for a rat ho |