CORRECTAR LA LETRA
Letra : HEAD TO HADES
Ooh
Yeah
Mm-mm
You ready? Look
Cook crack, cook crack, cook crack, that's what my bars is
Could never play me for ho-ho-ho, I peep the clauses
My whole set is down to throw it up, but we not nauseous
And I got big drip, big splash and whatever else out the faucet
Yeah, it get slippery 'round a big splasher
Yo' 'hood full of whole bunch of sombreros, big cappers
I'm good with my cornea on a sparrow when it get critical
But my 'hood keep a bag of sticks like a scarecrow, wig snatchers
Ooh, guard your head top, head top
Serpent slidin' by your ankles plottin' leg locks, leg locks
Been had ten toes in the gravel, but I ain't from bedrock
Guard your brеad shop, your yeast rise, most thievеs' eyes deadlock on all your treasure
Most measure a man's worth, but what brings pleasure?
I endeavor to add some feathers on the wings of those transgressors that feel lesser
And can't quite apply the pressure to the esophagus of they oppressor
I hope my bars are intercessors to end the efforts of all you little devils
Yeah, go to hell
Hey, lil' devil, go to hell
Huh, all you devils, go to hell
You think you know me well, but go to hell, yeah
T'Challa business, radiation through a microwave
What y'all have witnessed is aviation through a tidal wave
I get paid then I just ice the Jacob like the Ice-capades
Francis Cress Welsing's Isis papers replace my Bible page
Huh, cry at the wedding then hire my wifey's bridal maid
Frankie Beverly singin' my angry medley through a cyber maze
Huh, so guard your head top, head top
This is pressure, pressure in the form of a headlock, headlock, huh
(Huh) And this for my n***as that hustle, police patrollin' the freeway
(Woah) This is for Nipsey Hussle's holy theologian, C-Day
Them snakes is hissin', play your position like Kobe and D. Wade
Old school '64 sittin' in mint condition, like Tobe Nwigwe
Go to hell
Yeah, go to hell
Hey, lil' devil, go to hell
Huh, all you devils, go to hell
You think you know me well, but go to hell, yeah
Ayy, ayy, ayy
Brrt, brrt, ayy, hello, is this God?
(Yeah, this Him) Well, I'll be damned, what's up, God?
I don't got nothin' to say, just what's up, God?
Heh, what's up, God? Heh, what's up, God?
Brrt, brrt, ayy, hello, is this God for real?
(Yeah, this Him) I'll be damned, what's up, God?
What should I say if the devil call?
What should I say if the devil ever call? (Hey)
Go to hell, uh huh, go to hell, ayy
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy (Now you say it)
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy (Now you say it)
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy (Now you say it)
Go to hell, mm-mm, go to hell, ayy
Go to hell, mm-mm, n-n***a, go to hell
Yeah
Mm-mm
You ready? Look
Cook crack, cook crack, cook crack, that's what my bars is
Could never play me for ho-ho-ho, I peep the clauses
My whole set is down to throw it up, but we not nauseous
And I got big drip, big splash and whatever else out the faucet
Yeah, it get slippery 'round a big splasher
Yo' 'hood full of whole bunch of sombreros, big cappers
I'm good with my cornea on a sparrow when it get critical
But my 'hood keep a bag of sticks like a scarecrow, wig snatchers
Ooh, guard your head top, head top
Serpent slidin' by your ankles plottin' leg locks, leg locks
Been had ten toes in the gravel, but I ain't from bedrock
Guard your brеad shop, your yeast rise, most thievеs' eyes deadlock on all your treasure
Most measure a man's worth, but what brings pleasure?
I endeavor to add some feathers on the wings of those transgressors that feel lesser
And can't quite apply the pressure to the esophagus of they oppressor
I hope my bars are intercessors to end the efforts of all you little devils
Yeah, go to hell
Hey, lil' devil, go to hell
Huh, all you devils, go to hell
You think you know me well, but go to hell, yeah
T'Challa business, radiation through a microwave
What y'all have witnessed is aviation through a tidal wave
I get paid then I just ice the Jacob like the Ice-capades
Francis Cress Welsing's Isis papers replace my Bible page
Huh, cry at the wedding then hire my wifey's bridal maid
Frankie Beverly singin' my angry medley through a cyber maze
Huh, so guard your head top, head top
This is pressure, pressure in the form of a headlock, headlock, huh
(Huh) And this for my n***as that hustle, police patrollin' the freeway
(Woah) This is for Nipsey Hussle's holy theologian, C-Day
Them snakes is hissin', play your position like Kobe and D. Wade
Old school '64 sittin' in mint condition, like Tobe Nwigwe
Go to hell
Yeah, go to hell
Hey, lil' devil, go to hell
Huh, all you devils, go to hell
You think you know me well, but go to hell, yeah
Ayy, ayy, ayy
Brrt, brrt, ayy, hello, is this God?
(Yeah, this Him) Well, I'll be damned, what's up, God?
I don't got nothin' to say, just what's up, God?
Heh, what's up, God? Heh, what's up, God?
Brrt, brrt, ayy, hello, is this God for real?
(Yeah, this Him) I'll be damned, what's up, God?
What should I say if the devil call?
What should I say if the devil ever call? (Hey)
Go to hell, uh huh, go to hell, ayy
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy (Now you say it)
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy (Now you say it)
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy
Go to hell, uh, uh, go to hell, ayy (Now you say it)
Go to hell, mm-mm, go to hell, ayy
Go to hell, mm-mm, n-n***a, go to hell
