Correction Paroles Feeding Off The Moon par Kenny Mason

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Paroles

The most high, fire burning in both eyes
I appear when the smoke rise, wielding a .45
More than willing to tote mine, this grass grow high
Tryna make it out the wilderness with both lives
I think we was better off with no sides on yo side
Your guys will go on tangents without a cosine
More ties mean more damage whenever ropes slide
More lives in my hand, but ain't no one to hold mine
Blow minds every stanza, nobody ever blow mine
They say there’s levels to this sh*t, but ain't nobody on mine
They say there's devils in this sh*t, but I ain’t never known God
Eyes up to a high sun, I know I'm a sl*t
Money everything to you, I know you ain't got none
The intention in my movement, avoid confusion
They don't talk to me with loose lips, they know where I'm from
The more the blood spill, the slower I run
Pouring my lungs, passing corners where coroners come
If I make it back from this, they know it's war when I come
I rely on the love, but never more than my gun
That pu**y heart broke, but all the tears pour on my tongue
We trade energy, and sh*t, it's way more where that's from
My leap of faith was only halfway sure when I jump, but
Surely I jumped

I’m cleaning off every spoon
Might go for seconds while I’m feeding off the moon
Might tell the devil he a b*t*h without his goons
Might see a metal if you meddle with my food
Can't pedal in my shoes or peddle with any fools
Behind his face lies more than an empty room, I’m emptying a different round
I'm emptying a whole platoon, there's more than enough for you
This more than blowing a fuse, or eating more with some jewels
Percentages, need a few, I'm imitating a richer cool
My kettle burning with fuel, being to a different tomb
Our teachers were bending the rules and showed us different tools
Made us immune to the blood, red, white, and blue
Different crews, run a coup, the tire crumple n***as’ moods
Hopes and fears swung around, dancing to the ones and twos
Ducking UFO shots only meant for me and you
'Cause me and you got a different plot and a pot to use
I'm cooking the rocks they use
He gotta come on my block, that's bringing cops on my moods, dude
You gotta chill or get knocked
I'm banging more than the sun, they toastin' into a rock, ooh
They toastin' into a rock, ooh

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