Charles Hamilton - Death Becomes Her lyrics
[Charles Hamilton - Death Becomes Her lyrics]
When your eyes close for the last time
Who will be in the back of your mind? I told
Cats "I have a glass mind museum style, " to
Figure them out but every time I figure
They always reply like "MY
NIGGA!" And they give
Me a pound as if I'm Pablo
No Escobar picasso as hard as I go, cats
Ought to know not to test it but
I confess it's not a blessing
More like a curse
My behind is stressed then again
The blessing of which I spit is
Different in your eyes because it comes
Out with my eyelids closed
And my book unfolded
I got my dirt i got my own satellite
You got my sand i want that and satellites
That's right
Getting my feelings out the way real quick
I say real shit
Stay in the building cats can't
Wait to be chillin', but I'm
Just great like Dilla and I'm waiting
For the day when Dylan
Could get sampled by both of
Us so much for love, as we grow so dope
Motherfuckers should know my
MO is riding close by the guys
Who provide the toast for I ready to
Blast ready to hit ready to exit
(in my head, i'm the shit) I'm ready to
Ball my fist AND FUCK
Every last one of y'all niggas up!
So get a cup 'Cause
I slit your mug y'all niggas
Really suck suck my dick
I build the building up you
In love with this?
I got my dirt i got my own satellite
You got my sand i want that and satellites
That's right
You don't even know what I go
Through when I flow my
Flow is so overdose and the
Flow mixed with words
Makes niggas virgins again i
Can take the shit
Superb like Shang Tsung when the day's done
The virginity you've been given
With my words because
They're pure and they're in The Industry
And I enter thee with each word that
I give to thee so perfect
Rhymes are my symphony i heard that
Time was dying for me well, i
Am dying to be heard! My word is
Golden like the axe of the
Holes that I'm poking microphone knows this
And it's got some holes
Too! How 'bout I try to hold you
I got my dirt i got my own satellite
You got my sand i want that and satellites
That's right
Who will be in the back of your mind? I told
Cats "I have a glass mind museum style, " to
Figure them out but every time I figure
They always reply like "MY
NIGGA!" And they give
Me a pound as if I'm Pablo
No Escobar picasso as hard as I go, cats
Ought to know not to test it but
I confess it's not a blessing
More like a curse
My behind is stressed then again
The blessing of which I spit is
Different in your eyes because it comes
Out with my eyelids closed
And my book unfolded
I got my dirt i got my own satellite
You got my sand i want that and satellites
That's right
Getting my feelings out the way real quick
I say real shit
Stay in the building cats can't
Wait to be chillin', but I'm
Just great like Dilla and I'm waiting
For the day when Dylan
Could get sampled by both of
Us so much for love, as we grow so dope
Motherfuckers should know my
MO is riding close by the guys
Who provide the toast for I ready to
Blast ready to hit ready to exit
(in my head, i'm the shit) I'm ready to
Ball my fist AND FUCK
Every last one of y'all niggas up!
So get a cup 'Cause
I slit your mug y'all niggas
Really suck suck my dick
I build the building up you
In love with this?
I got my dirt i got my own satellite
You got my sand i want that and satellites
That's right
You don't even know what I go
Through when I flow my
Flow is so overdose and the
Flow mixed with words
Makes niggas virgins again i
Can take the shit
Superb like Shang Tsung when the day's done
The virginity you've been given
With my words because
They're pure and they're in The Industry
And I enter thee with each word that
I give to thee so perfect
Rhymes are my symphony i heard that
Time was dying for me well, i
Am dying to be heard! My word is
Golden like the axe of the
Holes that I'm poking microphone knows this
And it's got some holes
Too! How 'bout I try to hold you
I got my dirt i got my own satellite
You got my sand i want that and satellites
That's right