I stare down your blood coated throat glancing back into what was daylight. it shines on your dismembered body as vengeance drips from my hand. paint
i stare down your blood coated throat glancing back into what was daylight. it shines on your dismembered body as vengeance drips from my hand. paint
Traduzione: Eighteen Visions. Of Pain.
, some say I'm gifted I write rhymes in less than twenty minutes Impressin' the critiques when I'm boss an apprentice I see the future, within extensive vision
in your face man with somethin to sell I'm like a chronic vision pigeon tiga spinnin in time Two 45's, 357's, and 9's My figure eight, is real is not
(A tiskit a taskit The scarecrows out his casket Turn out the lites and lock the doors Prayin that he passes) A vision of the dead and the inbread
like Pete Sampras Drinkin Jose Cuervo like some spanish bandits Make women panic when I tell 'em I'ma vanish Don't take it personal, these are eight-one-eight
and pause Nail opponents to the floor like gun tame cats Bustin slugs in night clubs Million light bulb, imitation thugs spend in darkness Deliver pain
the middle of his summer Wouldn't have had to go if it wasn't for his new born brother He was barely eighteen, murdering people even younger And he still
, let me explain Eight years before the game, everything came with pain Watch the fate of my family slain would never see good times a-gayn Cursed with pain
glass of formaldehyde I'll preserve the day the Earth fell, to symbolize how Atlas died I've tried to rush the wormhole to deliver a eulogy But the other eight
that want me that weren't with me when I started this It's fucked up but I But I can't let these niggas blurry my vision On where I'm going and how I'
I fell, but a voice kept saying Son, stick to your vision, peep the composition [Chorus] (these eyes) seen alot of shame in the game (these eyes) seen alot of pain
window Son (Ga head man!) Shit shit shit don't blow it up, duck down (Yo let me do it man, let me do it, go head) *two shots, eighteen shots, seven shots
in the mail by the middle of his summer Wouldn't have had to go if it wasn't for his newborn brother He was barely eighteen, murdering people even younger