Charles Hamilton - Sour Times Two lyrics
[Charles Hamilton - Sour Times Two lyrics]
Bud go? I don't really
Roll, but I just rolled dying
In laughter a crying disaster
Because I am who I'm
After everybody discarded me (retardedly)
Then I find out I was wrong so guard
The beat if there's still love in the air
"Can I put a little bud in the air?" Hug me
For years i'm sick and fucking
Tired of tears i
Pick up a tire and here as in
Drive as in, wind time as in, "I've been
Winted" I'm sorry as in, "I've been winded in
Wintertime" I forget it's Winter's time then
I dine and then (maybe)
Some chick who's REALLY FUCKING
STUPID would wine (wind) to this shit
"We could really get it on!
We could really get it on!
We could really get it on!
We could really get it o-o-on!"
'Cause NOBODY LOVES ME except you
Who's me so me
And you let's do
What it do!
I have fans they put the candles out so now
I am what I stand about "Those"
Are my fans and "those"
Are my friends frozen hands and frozen limbs
While I give myself a hug in a
Mental ward no straightjacket
Either shit that's dinner for ya! Lock
(ed) myself up
Like "Help us!" Then I get help from Chuck
(my other side) but fuck the other
Side, it's just us tonight and I'ma ride
Until i DIE and I am obsessed with suicide
So "Why lie?" The shit isn't magick
So "Wahlah!"
(The) Devil Wears Prada and I like shopping
At thrift stores "MA?! NIGGAS WANNA
GET ME FLY! Then they flew me
Out to London now get me, while I die!"
"We could really get it on!
We could really get it on!
We could really get it on!
We could really get it o-o-on!"
'Cause NOBODY LOVES ME except you
Who's me so me
And you let's do
What it do!
Can I get a hug? Because for Show and Tell
I fucking brought in a little bug i
Didn't i'm lying cray or
UnCray just depends on how you play i'm
Frying and that "little bug" was my
Self-esteem passed it to all
Those bitches who
Were helping me love me more
"I'm ugly, you whore!" "I'm lovely
You whore!" You see that click?
Yo you see that shit?! I
Ain't on no beeyatch shit
But I'm scratching
Like three rashes and I'm not
On some DJ shit, you beeyatches all
I know is I'm nice when
I spit mad syllables and
I'm mad lyrical toss all them shit
(s) out the air toss 'em out the room i'M
The one who's expecting DOOM from a womb
"We could really get it on!
We could really get it on!
We could really get it on!
We could really get it o-o-on!"
'Cause NOBODY LOVES ME except you
Who's me so me
And you let's do
What it do!