The Curse歌词
添加日期：2021-04-25 时长：03分58秒 歌手：Snowgoons
The Curse - Snowgoons
The say the mind is a terrible thing to waste
So my every rhyme is designed from a spiritual place
Get the time I'm some kind of a lyrical great
I drink wine from the vines of superior grapes
How you think I carry the weight they got me very irate
I make a classic it's a habit how I bury these fakes
You can't compare me to snakes I never bite I never crawl
On the mic I'm something that you never saw this is raw
Y'all can't be serious these jams is hilarious
I leave you bloody like the first man to have a period
Period I ain't gotta write no more
But since the beat kinda nice I'mma write some more
Fight your war for what little cash little checks
So when I die you can put a little flag on my chest
You a fag with a rep I got shotties for your men
If Obama don't get the spot it's probably not for him
Enough black men do good to only get shot
That's why I'm good in the hood I don't need to get the props
I only need to get these thoughts off my brain
Chopped in and slain let juju mob in the game
Write another verse and send another curse
Here comes the storm get your talking on sick nature's
Back from the dead like motherf**kers been reading the necronomicon
When the sick person is talking I murder the market
I'm a monster kids trying to see me searching the closets
If incompetent knuckleheads are being slumberers
I'm sick I kick in the f**king door and slap 'em out of pajamases
Y'all fakers believe that I've been racing on cheetahs
My face is the thesis to standing tall in my laces Adidas
From unlucky to f**king up now sucka buckle up
I'm sick motherf**k plague wouldn't touch me with rubber gloves
Half steppers stay beneath me the rap sh*t'll never leave me
I bring thunder like thor and swinging this hammer to AC DC
F**k you if you think this sh*t is improper
While I'm lying rappers be pushing keys thinking they're hustlers
I'll show and prove never do it for paper
Leave the cake you want to your maker
Or move for snow goons and the nature motherf**k
Write another verse and send another curse
The mob remains we was just in the shadows
King of kings kamachi and cauze brother of pharaohs
Cousins of killers fathers of felons
Don't no light no w**d around us we'll abolish your section
You got juice you will get bashed to a pulp
Real talk years since the status was caught
Hundred and eighty seven songs that ain't half of my vault
Hell froze paved my way out on a path made of salt
Me and 'mach made of fire ain't no passing the torch
You pass I'll be passing the pork I'll splatter your thoughts
West Philly where I rep where my passage was taught
Wilding up the block while granddaddy sat on the porch
Watching the news with his back to the room
I grew up with kids who swam with crack in the womb
Now they're selling the same sh*t pops died on the same strip
Shower your rhymes powerful as the gauge kick
Or with a tangled web I leave you maimed and dead
Without a microphone I make you f**king bang your head
My anger's fed when I get some heat from waxwork
The gat burst would have been a hitman just learned to rap first
Used to be a fat jerk now I'm a skinny one
One man one gun I go to war with anyone
You f**k with juju mob that's asinine
We don't have to rhyme ni**a we'll settle this by blasting nines编辑于2021/04/25更新
The say the mind is a terrible thing to waste
So my every rhyme is designed from a spiritual place
Get the time I'm some kind of a lyrical great
I drink wine from the vines of superior grapes
How you think I carry the weight they got me very irate
I make a classic it's a habit how I bury these fakes
You can't compare me to snakes I never bite I never crawl
On the mic I'm something that you never saw this is raw
Y'all can't be serious these jams is hilarious
I leave you bloody like the first man to have a period
Period I ain't gotta write no more
But since the beat kinda nice I'mma write some more
Fight your war for what little cash little checks
So when I die you can put a little flag on my chest
You a fag with a rep I got shotties for your men
If Obama don't get the spot it's probably not for him
Enough black men do good to only get shot
That's why I'm good in the hood I don't need to get the props
I only need to get these thoughts off my brain
Chopped in and slain let juju mob in the game
Write another verse and send another curse
Here comes the storm get your talking on sick nature's
Back from the dead like motherf**kers been reading the necronomicon
When the sick person is talking I murder the market
I'm a monster kids trying to see me searching the closets
If incompetent knuckleheads are being slumberers
I'm sick I kick in the f**king door and slap 'em out of pajamases
Y'all fakers believe that I've been racing on cheetahs
My face is the thesis to standing tall in my laces Adidas
From unlucky to f**king up now sucka buckle up
I'm sick motherf**k plague wouldn't touch me with rubber gloves
Half steppers stay beneath me the rap sh*t'll never leave me
I bring thunder like thor and swinging this hammer to AC DC
F**k you if you think this sh*t is improper
While I'm lying rappers be pushing keys thinking they're hustlers
I'll show and prove never do it for paper
Leave the cake you want to your maker
Or move for snow goons and the nature motherf**k
Write another verse and send another curse
The mob remains we was just in the shadows
King of kings kamachi and cauze brother of pharaohs
Cousins of killers fathers of felons
Don't no light no w**d around us we'll abolish your section
You got juice you will get bashed to a pulp
Real talk years since the status was caught
Hundred and eighty seven songs that ain't half of my vault
Hell froze paved my way out on a path made of salt
Me and 'mach made of fire ain't no passing the torch
You pass I'll be passing the pork I'll splatter your thoughts
West Philly where I rep where my passage was taught
Wilding up the block while granddaddy sat on the porch
Watching the news with his back to the room
I grew up with kids who swam with crack in the womb
Now they're selling the same sh*t pops died on the same strip
Shower your rhymes powerful as the gauge kick
Or with a tangled web I leave you maimed and dead
Without a microphone I make you f**king bang your head
My anger's fed when I get some heat from waxwork
The gat burst would have been a hitman just learned to rap first
Used to be a fat jerk now I'm a skinny one
One man one gun I go to war with anyone
You f**k with juju mob that's asinine
We don't have to rhyme ni**a we'll settle this by blasting nines编辑于2021/04/25更新
