bad bones

• Written by 

green trees in my drive way
wholly holiday, check up on my fathers grave
sparking blunts almost every day
December fifteenth the day, memories come swarming my way
thuggin me out for them trap house
ounce an a half you asking if im fried already
 
got alot of thought
punk nicca running through my yard
you thought i wasa go hard
hold up
let me go off
 
Bitch who the fuyck are
tryna infuse my brain with your busu
fuck your hood
for you sluts and shitty food
running this part
hooking up on those chronic nugs
smoked lungs from smoking young
catching bucks
twisting my tounge in mid catch
whiplash comes with the your flow cash
green grass to that green crack
take a sec and relax
perhaps the flask half full
never know to you take a pull for the four on the floor
super chore for the chorus
 
got alot of thought
punk nicca parked up in the parking lot
you thought i wasa go off let me pop this nicca
pulled the gloc out and shot a nicca
now hold up and watch me go off like a public speaker
 
Truancy jones bone hard
type to get sucked off and land hard
full car ready to roll up
hold up lord up
head down prayers thought
stress relieving thought
of players shooting stars
fuck visions let me spit up these bars
influence by the gin
you finna play these keys with my fifth hands
third eye inter insides
killem with sodium makem go blind
greatest alive no need to remind

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About the Artist

Shiva
Member since May 23 2014

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