Herringbone Songtext
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Ayo it's [?], [?] therapist
[?], back like Apollo kids
Brutal, stir a nigga brain like a cup of noodle
Tony Picasso didn't shit, but a little doodle
[?] face, keep [?]
Screaming out, "More bass", spazzing on tour dates
[?] bitches flicking they pussy lips
French vanilla butter pecan, I call 'em sugar tits
Palming they ass, one finger in the stinker
Forty pound herringbone chain without a kinker
[?], back like Apollo kids
Brutal, stir a nigga brain like a cup of noodle
Tony Picasso didn't shit, but a little doodle
[?] face, keep [?]
Screaming out, "More bass", spazzing on tour dates
[?] bitches flicking they pussy lips
French vanilla butter pecan, I call 'em sugar tits
Palming they ass, one finger in the stinker
Forty pound herringbone chain without a kinker
Minger, my fur got stashed by some chambers
Barracuda grip, bitch [?] up in my banger
[?], guns more rockier than mountain
Stopped the James Bond [?], then piss in the fountains
We out
The only motherfucker that's thought of like he a mystical
It's criminal, to wait and he slaughter all of the physical
Horror is not predictable, honor is not a ritual
It's Hell up in Harlem when they shot him in 1962
The nine is lifting you to a higher body, celestial
The pistol do the damage, no matter what the medicinal
Hiding behind municipal, got inside the invincible
I tried to find a rhyme that can silence the higher sentinel
You added to the violence, the violence is my monopoly
Feed 'em to the assassin, then smash 'em like he was pottery
Slash 'em with the isosceles, have 'em passed me the Wallabees
I'll take the [?] after robbing 'em like democracy
How could you be honoring the fallen father, the harbinger
The foreigner of everything, holy call me the conqueror The room darken, I'm the tooly [?] the carpenter
The God philosopher, it's the holy mountain, the sorcerer
Muerte
Barracuda grip, bitch [?] up in my banger
[?], guns more rockier than mountain
Stopped the James Bond [?], then piss in the fountains
We out
The only motherfucker that's thought of like he a mystical
It's criminal, to wait and he slaughter all of the physical
Horror is not predictable, honor is not a ritual
It's Hell up in Harlem when they shot him in 1962
The nine is lifting you to a higher body, celestial
The pistol do the damage, no matter what the medicinal
Hiding behind municipal, got inside the invincible
I tried to find a rhyme that can silence the higher sentinel
You added to the violence, the violence is my monopoly
Feed 'em to the assassin, then smash 'em like he was pottery
Slash 'em with the isosceles, have 'em passed me the Wallabees
I'll take the [?] after robbing 'em like democracy
How could you be honoring the fallen father, the harbinger
The foreigner of everything, holy call me the conqueror The room darken, I'm the tooly [?] the carpenter
The God philosopher, it's the holy mountain, the sorcerer
Muerte
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