Infinite

Infinite - One Day Radio Mix songtekst

Je score:
Yo  who stepped off rage
 Broke cracked bottle tops  spilled this forever
 Whites  no trace  leather jacket zipped up to his face
 He dipped behind the wall  Shalenka couldn't aim to touch it
 These cats have started something that they couldn't finish
 Now they flee the country
 Yo  shot guy  God please forgive this life we're living
 Takin' mans for diems  aiyo  hands on your head where I can see 'em
 The chron's shone, spit out the combine
 I'm tryin' to make my exit real quick
 We leave no form of evidence

 [Chorus]
 Bakin' slugs out the dark
 Wild shoot-outs through the park
 These jail houses overcrowdin'
 All my thugs remain calm
 Money turnin', trees is burnin'
 But one day, it'll be gone
 (now one day)
 I'm your suspect


 Yo, heavy chrons with small engravments
 Digits wit' small letters that name it
 Man created, but always to blame it
 I'm far rusted, pushin' your glusted, you busted and pussy
 Open your face and get chopped, just like a cussy
 You're pyro, I got one eye lookin' straight down the barrell
 Don't mistake me for shhhh, I'll eat your food and real quick
 Burn up the gear I dressed in
 Meanwhile the motive got them itchin' questions and guesses
 What would you ask God if you had one question?
 Aiyo, deal wit' your family in your life
 Don't try to flop mine, they puttin' over dates and trials
 Little snitches turn into coffins and push six
 A man could be my worst enemy, I'll take this
 >From pyramids, beer caps to dollar bills with faces
 Got me chasin' bloody papers
 Scatterd 'cross the floor like forty acres
 So tired that, better yet, picture this from beer caps
 To dollar bills, black clips, lyrical high tips

 [Chorus]

 Yo, half a dutch inside a candle seed
 Liquor bottles in cemetarys
 'Nuff built up inside my body, but the Lord is my salvation
 Still have to make a move, cause just put off
 Broken fingers on metal tables, hands off, I'll pull off
 Black caddies and starlen windows that's bulletproof
 All you could see is fog off the door
 And richotched to the floor
 thirty-four fours, align your back, all straight to your jaw's jaws
 All pause, lookin' through the barrell, it's all yours

 [Chorus
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Taal: Engels

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