Ransom - Arson lyrics
[Ransom - Arson lyrics]
The streets annointed me king nigga
Tom Coughlin told me "I hate your guts"
He's jealous because my rings bigger
Scars on my ring finger
Even Tyson told me I'm certified
And I'll never get in the ring wit' ya
It's pink liquour drizzling down
My silk shirt the smell of rosé in the
Air while i still burp
Never thought I would see a
Rapper in little skirts
And to be honest my nigga
I'm just a little hurt
The alternative, merciless bar murderers
Niggas catch brakes when slipping
On hard surfaces forty-Four Cal
They calling the god Berkowitz
Swiss army flows I use 'em for all purposes
The fake Khaled but I mix drinks
I'm screaming out "we the best"
While I'm eating a steak salad
Abstract art, frustrated I break palettes
Used to be that nigga
Month later a straight addict
Hood demographic
Shootouts and closed caskets
Young with no father I grew up an old bastard
The flow acid nigga so pardon me
I'm still in the trap like
Tiger at par three a fighter, my scars deep
Deep as the ocean floor
I'm seeing through the eyes of
A nigga that's smoking raw
I spit like a broken jaw
Opposite of orthodox
Bars carry more caffeine than
Most coffee shops
Adrenaline rush, ten on a bus
Headed downstate
It's fate that put men in these cuffs
That's why I hold my pen in a clutch
Take it back to the early years
A little gin in my cup nigga what up
I smile while I hold the liquour
All you'll see is a big
Silhouette of an old gorilla
I can find warmth in the
Heart of the coldest killer
The earth is pretty big but
Remember the soul is bigger
Tom Coughlin told me "I hate your guts"
He's jealous because my rings bigger
Scars on my ring finger
Even Tyson told me I'm certified
And I'll never get in the ring wit' ya
It's pink liquour drizzling down
My silk shirt the smell of rosé in the
Air while i still burp
Never thought I would see a
Rapper in little skirts
And to be honest my nigga
I'm just a little hurt
The alternative, merciless bar murderers
Niggas catch brakes when slipping
On hard surfaces forty-Four Cal
They calling the god Berkowitz
Swiss army flows I use 'em for all purposes
The fake Khaled but I mix drinks
I'm screaming out "we the best"
While I'm eating a steak salad
Abstract art, frustrated I break palettes
Used to be that nigga
Month later a straight addict
Hood demographic
Shootouts and closed caskets
Young with no father I grew up an old bastard
The flow acid nigga so pardon me
I'm still in the trap like
Tiger at par three a fighter, my scars deep
Deep as the ocean floor
I'm seeing through the eyes of
A nigga that's smoking raw
I spit like a broken jaw
Opposite of orthodox
Bars carry more caffeine than
Most coffee shops
Adrenaline rush, ten on a bus
Headed downstate
It's fate that put men in these cuffs
That's why I hold my pen in a clutch
Take it back to the early years
A little gin in my cup nigga what up
I smile while I hold the liquour
All you'll see is a big
Silhouette of an old gorilla
I can find warmth in the
Heart of the coldest killer
The earth is pretty big but
Remember the soul is bigger