Song | Decisions Over Veal Orloff |
Artist | Action Bronson |
Artist | The Alchemist |
Album | Russian Roulette |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
It be like queen’s kid with the face like | |
Jim the Anvil, | |
Night hard, | |
I play the part smoking night shot | |
My mind’s sharp like a shape off from | |
Dominicans. | |
There’s no confession when | |
I’m sending fucking cinnamon | |
Women rocking double colored leaning in front of beginning | |
I see you lie, you use pretending, better watch who you be befriending. | |
My shit is profound, | |
I shoot the pistol with the whistle sound | |
And cast the show before | |
I hit the ground. | |
Then pill off just like the skin of the pepper. | |
Order jacket that | |
I’m packing, ‘cause | |
I’m twisted in level, | |
Don’t get it twisted, keep the biscuit sour but shake its shadow, | |
Getting fly just like the ship with the feathers, | |
You could be laying face down if you sold shoes | |
Or leave you covered in a blanket man, you won’t lose, | |
I’m from a place where kids are shaking for some cold shoes, | |
Hand out of pocket with a hakey on a bold trouce | |
It’s me. |
It be like queen' s kid with the face like | |
Jim the Anvil, | |
Night hard, | |
I play the part smoking night shot | |
My mind' s sharp like a shape off from | |
Dominicans. | |
There' s no confession when | |
I' m sending fucking cinnamon | |
Women rocking double colored leaning in front of beginning | |
I see you lie, you use pretending, better watch who you be befriending. | |
My shit is profound, | |
I shoot the pistol with the whistle sound | |
And cast the show before | |
I hit the ground. | |
Then pill off just like the skin of the pepper. | |
Order jacket that | |
I' m packing, ' cause | |
I' m twisted in level, | |
Don' t get it twisted, keep the biscuit sour but shake its shadow, | |
Getting fly just like the ship with the feathers, | |
You could be laying face down if you sold shoes | |
Or leave you covered in a blanket man, you won' t lose, | |
I' m from a place where kids are shaking for some cold shoes, | |
Hand out of pocket with a hakey on a bold trouce | |
It' s me. |
It be like queen' s kid with the face like | |
Jim the Anvil, | |
Night hard, | |
I play the part smoking night shot | |
My mind' s sharp like a shape off from | |
Dominicans. | |
There' s no confession when | |
I' m sending fucking cinnamon | |
Women rocking double colored leaning in front of beginning | |
I see you lie, you use pretending, better watch who you be befriending. | |
My shit is profound, | |
I shoot the pistol with the whistle sound | |
And cast the show before | |
I hit the ground. | |
Then pill off just like the skin of the pepper. | |
Order jacket that | |
I' m packing, ' cause | |
I' m twisted in level, | |
Don' t get it twisted, keep the biscuit sour but shake its shadow, | |
Getting fly just like the ship with the feathers, | |
You could be laying face down if you sold shoes | |
Or leave you covered in a blanket man, you won' t lose, | |
I' m from a place where kids are shaking for some cold shoes, | |
Hand out of pocket with a hakey on a bold trouce | |
It' s me. |