CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : How To Kill A Dead Body

Maybe, I said too much
You might be losing your touch
Maybe you losing the battle, ain't over til’ it's over
(Man shut down...)
(I been at it for a few years...)
f**k outta here with that weird sh*t
You done when I say I'm done with you n***a...
(I been at it for a few years, you been at it for a few months...)

Yeah
All that gossip you did on your last song
Done turned you into a blog
You should’ve been overseas, instead, you act like a broad
You rap like iOS 8, I became what you should've been
Like how many other Mollies I gotta finish to pop?
Boy you should've stuck to pop, now you wanna be opps
I'm really bout the wrap, you the type to run the cops
Prosthetic B. Rabbit, you'll never be Hip or Hop
You had to resort to info you picking up on the block
“He say, she say?” We don't play those games
You prehistoric pre-school H-A-S-H
If I never said anything, you wouldn't be trending
Enjoy it while it lasts, your career's at its ending
Don’t act innocent like you ain’t live at Zeus crib
Better humble yourself boy, you ain't live what you posting
Taking these pictures that you share months later
For your IG people, so you fake what you boasting
Truth be told, I never thought one minute and fourty-seven seconds on Twitter would get under your skin
You ain’t got no vision
Clubbing and f**king b*t*hes got you c*ckeyed
'Cause all you do is think with your foreskin
n***as mad I got Anatii on a feature, huh?
J stand for jealous and it's one hell of a creature, huh?
n***as say they made they sound that made me
And they was right
But now's the time where the student becomes the teacher, huh?
Speedy put you on a song, you hit your peak in 2017
If it wasn’t for that, we wouldn't know you, huh?
You NeverBroke 'cause you sold your soul
For a platinum record, you ain't eating off of
So now the devil control you, huh?
All this Pallbearer talk about Biggie
You must be Ready To Die, man
Guess somebody should've told you huh?
I'm tailor-made for this sh*t
You just another Taylor Swift with a tiny d**k
Man, we don't even rate you huh?
Dreams Money Can Buy, but look what it cost ya
Three years later, you still coming second to Costa
You've been wanting to fit in so bad
You got an eye tat, with dreads
Hoping that the game would adopt ya
You rapping like a b*t*h, airing sh*t you heard on the street
Flip your stage name backward to Molley J
Talking dirty laundry get you whitewashed
Your beats ain't sh*t to these white boys
That's word to Marshall and Dre
Took a break from the game, came back like I never left
And all you could say in a diss is talk about my ex
But you stalking yours, breaking into her crib
To check if she ain't with anybody else getting some better sex?
You ain't a real n***a, whenever you drunk or sober
You the same n***a who slept with your n***a's leftovers
Maybe, I said too much, you might be losing your touch
Maybe you losing the battle, ain't over til' it's over