I ain't got nothing to live for but I ain't got nothing to die from neither
(Oooohhh)
I don't know which state of being is worse
And I don't know the real meaning of these words
(These words, these words, these words)
Who need it I don't want none f*ck that
I'm finna die alone, that's okay, f*ck rap
I ain't no sap, I can see more clearer
Just let me bust a cap in this motherf*cker in the mirror! (Ah!)
Suicidal thoughts some call it Kurt Co
You can see my guts, I'm in berserk mode
Peel the mask off, you can still pop percs yo
Shoutout to my gargoyles, up on the perch, yo
Sometimes I wanna curb-stomp these bitches
Unwilling to f*ck around with the insidious
Check ya domicile, especially if ya dame missing
Finna be a homicide, with no witnesses
This is premeditated rape, never be the same
You should never feel safe when you're listening to my tape
I'm a product of pure malice down to the sediment
Scary thoughts is the crime, rhymes are the evidence
It feel like my brain broken
Visions of a hooded figure in the rain smoking
Death got to be easy because life is hard
And no one appreciate you less you come with the bars
I don't feel no angel's tear when I pray
And no one's leaving flowers at my grave, anyway
So I'm waking up the dead with this motherf*cking ruckus
Once you hear the chainsaws, end of the discussion
Put my friends in a vice grip
Open up they tight lips
Understand how to move through this whole life shit
I was never taught how to not make enemies
So I decided to talk shit and commit felonies
I've started to wonder. Like, is it all really worth it?
Distracting from the fact that I'm a bad person
I've started to think the awful part of my soul
Is just the way I am. These words are cold
What is left but a human husk?
Most days I don't give a f*ck
Put the nine up to my face
I am just a waste of space
Putting holes in my hands like stigmata
The blood runs thick when they lay me in my tomb
I was born inside the darkness, now I'm counting up ricotta
But, I still see your shadows in my room
Big Vinny - These Words Lyrics
Big Vinny - These Words Lyrics
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I ain't got nothing to live for but I ain't got nothing to die from neither
(Oooohhh)
I don't know which state of being is worse
And I don't know the real meaning of these words
(These words, these words, these words)
Who need it I don't want none f*ck that
I'm finna die alone, that's okay, f*ck rap
I ain't no sap, I can see more clearer
Just let me bust a cap in this motherf*cker in the mirror! (Ah!)
Suicidal thoughts some call it Kurt Co
You can see my guts, I'm in berserk mode
Peel the mask off, you can still pop percs yo
Shoutout to my gargoyles, up on the perch, yo
Sometimes I wanna curb-stomp these bitches
Unwilling to f*ck around with the insidious
Check ya domicile, especially if ya dame missing
Finna be a homicide, with no witnesses
This is premeditated rape, never be the same
You should never feel safe when you're listening to my tape
I'm a product of pure malice down to the sediment
Scary thoughts is the crime, rhymes are the evidence
It feel like my brain broken
Visions of a hooded figure in the rain smoking
Death got to be easy because life is hard
And no one appreciate you less you come with the bars
I don't feel no angel's tear when I pray
And no one's leaving flowers at my grave, anyway
So I'm waking up the dead with this motherf*cking ruckus
Once you hear the chainsaws, end of the discussion
Put my friends in a vice grip
Open up they tight lips
Understand how to move through this whole life shit
I was never taught how to not make enemies
So I decided to talk shit and commit felonies
I've started to wonder. Like, is it all really worth it?
Distracting from the fact that I'm a bad person
I've started to think the awful part of my soul
Is just the way I am. These words are cold
What is left but a human husk?
Most days I don't give a f*ck
Put the nine up to my face
I am just a waste of space
Putting holes in my hands like stigmata
The blood runs thick when they lay me in my tomb
I was born inside the darkness, now I'm counting up ricotta
But, I still see your shadows in my room
(Oooohhh)
I don't know which state of being is worse
And I don't know the real meaning of these words
(These words, these words, these words)
Who need it I don't want none f*ck that
I'm finna die alone, that's okay, f*ck rap
I ain't no sap, I can see more clearer
Just let me bust a cap in this motherf*cker in the mirror! (Ah!)
Suicidal thoughts some call it Kurt Co
You can see my guts, I'm in berserk mode
Peel the mask off, you can still pop percs yo
Shoutout to my gargoyles, up on the perch, yo
Sometimes I wanna curb-stomp these bitches
Unwilling to f*ck around with the insidious
Check ya domicile, especially if ya dame missing
Finna be a homicide, with no witnesses
This is premeditated rape, never be the same
You should never feel safe when you're listening to my tape
I'm a product of pure malice down to the sediment
Scary thoughts is the crime, rhymes are the evidence
It feel like my brain broken
Visions of a hooded figure in the rain smoking
Death got to be easy because life is hard
And no one appreciate you less you come with the bars
I don't feel no angel's tear when I pray
And no one's leaving flowers at my grave, anyway
So I'm waking up the dead with this motherf*cking ruckus
Once you hear the chainsaws, end of the discussion
Put my friends in a vice grip
Open up they tight lips
Understand how to move through this whole life shit
I was never taught how to not make enemies
So I decided to talk shit and commit felonies
I've started to wonder. Like, is it all really worth it?
Distracting from the fact that I'm a bad person
I've started to think the awful part of my soul
Is just the way I am. These words are cold
What is left but a human husk?
Most days I don't give a f*ck
Put the nine up to my face
I am just a waste of space
Putting holes in my hands like stigmata
The blood runs thick when they lay me in my tomb
I was born inside the darkness, now I'm counting up ricotta
But, I still see your shadows in my room
Writer: Vincent Schiavone
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid