Sinizter, Sxmpra - DEAD OR ALIVE lyrics
[Sinizter, Sxmpra - DEAD OR ALIVE lyrics]
I am the one i am that mothafucka when I’m
Spittin I do it for fun i don’t want funds
Fuck all the drugs
Pussies be running away from they problems
I face to the front bitch I never miss
Try not to fuck with the clique
Tasting the Blood on my lips when I spit
I’m out here schemin feel like a demon
Grippin the blade in my fist
I don’t really wanna put a slit in my wrist
But think if I did
The Mothafuckas jump on my shit
They fuckin with it
I think I’d be next big thing
Imma give em a twist underground warrior
Stuck in dysphoria stallin my hope for the
Future i shoot for the stars
And my bullet go far
But I can’t seem to follow the hollow
Tomorrow i wallow
In sorrow i can’t seem to swallow
The fact that I might just be rotten
I might just like what I’ve gotten
I like this knife in my pocket
Fuckin with me and you in the coffin aye
Pussy mothafuckas wanna make it to fame
They fuckin with lames
I never wanna be the one
To do the same thangs as the fakes so
Evade the games
It’s schema the pose to the grave eliminate
Every mothafucka fuckin with the posse
Takin pot shots with a sawed off
Ain’t god damn shots be connecting with
The body Imma be the one to rock it till I’m
Poppin I’mma never stop
Jump off the porch I’m goin’ head first
Grip on the steel I’m dumpin’ lead first
Boutta to ‘Eat You Alive’ just
Like I’m Fred Durst
Vampire like Cullen I got the bloodthirst
Flow is telekinetic call me Professor X
Chasin’ the bag you know I need the check
When I whip out the choppa
You betta hit the deck
Think I’m losin’ my mind I go Virginia Tech
I’m losin’ faith lately
But they can’t break me
I’m stressin’ out daily homicide maybe
Always told ‘real recognize real'
Guess that mean all y’all fake
Always told ‘real recognize real’
Guess that mean all y’all fake
Yeah bitch you do this for clout
And I got the passion
I be makin’ a statement not talkin’ fashion
Live and die by the creed bitch I’m assassin
I keep a pump in the trunk
If you want the action
Post-traumatic disorder, I have a flashback
And if catch you it’s on
And you gettin’ bitch slapped
Know you know that I’m petty
I gotta clap back
Six feet in the grave and you take a dirt nap
I’m losin’ faith lately
But they can’t break me
I’m stressin’ out daily homicide maybe
I’m losin’ faith lately
But they can’t break me
I’m stressin’ out daily homicide maybe
Spittin I do it for fun i don’t want funds
Fuck all the drugs
Pussies be running away from they problems
I face to the front bitch I never miss
Try not to fuck with the clique
Tasting the Blood on my lips when I spit
I’m out here schemin feel like a demon
Grippin the blade in my fist
I don’t really wanna put a slit in my wrist
But think if I did
The Mothafuckas jump on my shit
They fuckin with it
I think I’d be next big thing
Imma give em a twist underground warrior
Stuck in dysphoria stallin my hope for the
Future i shoot for the stars
And my bullet go far
But I can’t seem to follow the hollow
Tomorrow i wallow
In sorrow i can’t seem to swallow
The fact that I might just be rotten
I might just like what I’ve gotten
I like this knife in my pocket
Fuckin with me and you in the coffin aye
Pussy mothafuckas wanna make it to fame
They fuckin with lames
I never wanna be the one
To do the same thangs as the fakes so
Evade the games
It’s schema the pose to the grave eliminate
Every mothafucka fuckin with the posse
Takin pot shots with a sawed off
Ain’t god damn shots be connecting with
The body Imma be the one to rock it till I’m
Poppin I’mma never stop
Jump off the porch I’m goin’ head first
Grip on the steel I’m dumpin’ lead first
Boutta to ‘Eat You Alive’ just
Like I’m Fred Durst
Vampire like Cullen I got the bloodthirst
Flow is telekinetic call me Professor X
Chasin’ the bag you know I need the check
When I whip out the choppa
You betta hit the deck
Think I’m losin’ my mind I go Virginia Tech
I’m losin’ faith lately
But they can’t break me
I’m stressin’ out daily homicide maybe
Always told ‘real recognize real'
Guess that mean all y’all fake
Always told ‘real recognize real’
Guess that mean all y’all fake
Yeah bitch you do this for clout
And I got the passion
I be makin’ a statement not talkin’ fashion
Live and die by the creed bitch I’m assassin
I keep a pump in the trunk
If you want the action
Post-traumatic disorder, I have a flashback
And if catch you it’s on
And you gettin’ bitch slapped
Know you know that I’m petty
I gotta clap back
Six feet in the grave and you take a dirt nap
I’m losin’ faith lately
But they can’t break me
I’m stressin’ out daily homicide maybe
I’m losin’ faith lately
But they can’t break me
I’m stressin’ out daily homicide maybe