Correction Paroles Over the Limit par Hit-Boy

Retour

Paroles

Yeah
sh*t sound crazy, Hit
The Butcher comin', n***a
See the difference is
From me and y'all n***as, I really did this sh*t though
So I can say what I wanna say, uh
(Hit-Boy)

I do this religiously and I don't trust fools in this industry
Mad I came through on a winnin' streak
That's me blastin' through your car auxiliary
They wanna John Lennon me, or John Kennedy
Since I been on, I feel my adrenaline goin'
It take me back to the corners I solicited on
You know the ratio, when you from the hood, the only place we know
Only three out of ten of us gon' make it though
No President Trump sh*t, elegant thug sh*t
Yeah, left on parole, gettin' heroin plugged in
Feelings ain't 'posed to linger, I left without regrets
Numb like anesthesia, feds want me subpoenaed
For n***as chasin' goals that I targetted myself
Some of my best verses, I'm just talkin' to myself
They won't let me live for sh*t I already did
Everytime my opps need medics, the credit hits
I'm like a mirror, not your reflection, the better years
But if you break me, that's bad luck for eleven years
Everytime one of us die, I shed a tear
Then look in the sky, I wonder if Heaven there
That was Benny at the height of the pressure and never scared
So the bond that I built with my n***as'll never tear
Only a few in this room, yeah, that's when you rare
Get a million-dollar deal, we used to get rid of squares, hmm

clip

Ton pseudo sera publié. Laisses les champs vide pour rester anonyme.