Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chasing the Dragon, artist - WILDCARD.
Date of issue: 16.01.2012
Song language: English
Chasing the Dragon |
Minute by minute diminishing gimmicks and cynical sinners definitive affinitive |
remedies in it to send to the menace inventive pen is and pullin' my pen and be |
springin' the venom and given this shit I begin in the end and a genuine |
minister diminish and ten percent I be giving this shit I’m the wickedest |
sinner I’m comin' to- |
Fed up with beautiful people ignite this blaze |
And when it be rhythm the wickedest dragon is coming to light your way |
When I be shivin' I’m stickin' em' like OJ |
But I be that white knight that’ll be twisted to the eye type that wives obey |
Wickedest pain to make the skies go gray |
Used to be having adventures on that crystal meth I call them Ice-capades |
Got a tongue to turn a dyke both ways, don’t like it? |
Oh I’m sorry I just must have thought it was white boy day |
Wildcard’s the king of storms and all my flows’ll through lightning, |
give me the rhythm I’ll give em' the shit I be spitting it bitter like old |
Cyrus |
I’ll talk a bunch of shit and all of my boys’ll co-sign it and I never stalked |
my ex’s house, okay I drove by it but look- |
I was in the neighborhood and just stressed out and I feel like my whole crew |
is in prison call and collect now |
(an inmate at, a federal prison) |
Yeah we know where the call’s from bitch just hurry up and connect now |
No ones taking me alive (no) |
I’m in the getaway driving to the other side (to) |
Find a better place (find) |
Getting sick and tired (getting sick and tired) |
Of just holding on |
Holding on (holding on) |
Yo |
Yippee-ki-yay mother fucker Phil is Billy the Kid, tell like Poets breaking out |
of prison just like Dillinger did, pillin' wigs makin' a killin' off villains |
and drillin' they chick too, women twisted in positions like Brazilian Jujitsu, |
sex with these pretty bitches from Sex in the City, kissin' they necks and |
they clits are drippin' with aggressive and gritty spittin' and infecting the |
city with it I’m blessed with this witty wisdom, don’t mess with this, |
kitties trippin' like the exorcist spittin' vicious and the treacherous wicked |
witches of the west can just like my tip with the hexes and mysticism |
antiseptic come rippin' shit and it shreds, and these chicks are drippin, |
dick insurrection the chicks are jettin' for they life like they in witness |
protection, in different directions they split and they jettin' I’ll twist and |
mix up these lessons, I’m Smith and I’m Wesson, I’ll spit with aggression, |
and it’s my gift and my testament I’m as sick as it gets and don’t let me |
twist in your head then it’s like your trippin' on mescaline and I be, |
making tracks about pain and interchange and I be, making tracks with |
punch-lines to entertain, and I be making tracks to MC’s that bust lame more |
uncomfortable than trying to fuck in the back of this mustang (Damn it girl), |
(uhh, baby you gotta… ohh), (can you spread), (I'm tryi-, what? |
), (put your leg over the thing a little bit?) (I, uh, I’m not that flexible), |
(I'm pulling my fucking lumbar over here), (oh why couldn’t we get a hummer?) |
No ones taking me alive (no) |
I’m in the getaway driving to the other side (to) |
Find a better place (find) |
Getting sick and tired (getting sick and tired) |
Of just holding on |
Holding on (holding on) |
Yo |
Troubles coming up the horizon leaving you stuck in a crisis, with a beat |
duffle bag I’m stuffing with knives, half Spanish half luck of the Irish, |
bitch I’m cursed with alcoholism, pissed I’m stuck coughin' this nitrous, |
like why don’t you fucks just rush into my fist while I’m clutching this ice |
pick, now your bloods what I’m paint-brushin' at night with, my ex-girl told me |
I’d be angry and alone, I was like fuck you, now I’m thinking what if she’s |
right shit, Imma need another motherly white chick with them double D size tits |
and em' supple lips for guzzling my kids. |
tell the hussy guzzle on my dick, |
she resists and I persist damn near got her in a fucking muai-thai clinch, |
feel like I’m another design glitch with the clutch of a vise grip leave them |
bludgeoned with brass knuckles and night sticks, still a little paranoid from |
all the fuckin drugs that I did, wait you ain’t working for the government |
right bitch? |
feeling like an underground fight pit-bull who’s running this |
rhyme shit and more nuts with every muzzle that I grip, tell these kids love |
all they life won’t get another one like it trying to take my own fucking |
advice, shit |