$uicideboy$ - Either Hated Or Ignored lyrics
[$uicideboy$ - Either Hated Or Ignored lyrics]
Yah, yah, $carecrow, Ruby stay runnin'
$carecrow, $carecrow, $carecrow, $carecrow
$care
Norf'side, shit, where the fuck that been?
RIP $lick $loth
Playa haters surround me like vultures
On a dead body get the fuck from 'round me
Ain't tryna be yo' fuckin' friend (ayy)
White boy with the nappy hair
Bought the platinums, nah, not double-O, bruh
Bunch of all you thirsty
Thirty somethin' motherfucker bald
Head headass boy, get off this playa's nuts
Test yo' luck, might catch slugs
This that middle finger up
Shit, fuck a bitch
And fuck you too for thinkin'
We would not make it tell me really
(How does it feel?)
If you were in the field believin'
The vision that we living
Fuck the fluxes of competition
We got the leverage
Fuck you punks, we stock weapons
47s, 45s, TECs, poles on deck
Cut Throat, boy
There's more than one reason that I'm a
Broke boy, ain't broke
I got a lotta fucking bread
Now I've seen the globe
Muffaletta loaves sittin' in the
Right and left pockets
Now my pockets got a lot of fuckin' holes
Leaving trails of the crumbs so
Them fuckboys will follow, yeah
Fill up that hollow stomach with my sorrow
Tomorrow ain't promised a tough
Pill to swallow
But Roxycodone ain't a tough pill to snort
It's a tough pill to kick
Always fall short, standin' tall
With my vice, fuck y'all for the sport
The money, the bitches, the fame
Feelin' like a hoard
Now I'm smokin' more ports
And I'm closer to death than I
Was when I was poor
Cooking pizzas in the kitchen
Passin' out on the couch
I'll die from being bored
(He'll die from bein' bored)
Sing a sad ass song with just four chords
Oh lord sing a sad ass song, another
Death in the 7th Ward, oh lord
Sing a sad ass song for Yung $now
Putting in hours at the morgue
Sing a sad ass song for
Another tally on the sword
Blizzard storm when I fucking mourn
$carecrow, $carecrow, $carecrow, $carecrow
$care
Norf'side, shit, where the fuck that been?
RIP $lick $loth
Playa haters surround me like vultures
On a dead body get the fuck from 'round me
Ain't tryna be yo' fuckin' friend (ayy)
White boy with the nappy hair
Bought the platinums, nah, not double-O, bruh
Bunch of all you thirsty
Thirty somethin' motherfucker bald
Head headass boy, get off this playa's nuts
Test yo' luck, might catch slugs
This that middle finger up
Shit, fuck a bitch
And fuck you too for thinkin'
We would not make it tell me really
(How does it feel?)
If you were in the field believin'
The vision that we living
Fuck the fluxes of competition
We got the leverage
Fuck you punks, we stock weapons
47s, 45s, TECs, poles on deck
Cut Throat, boy
There's more than one reason that I'm a
Broke boy, ain't broke
I got a lotta fucking bread
Now I've seen the globe
Muffaletta loaves sittin' in the
Right and left pockets
Now my pockets got a lot of fuckin' holes
Leaving trails of the crumbs so
Them fuckboys will follow, yeah
Fill up that hollow stomach with my sorrow
Tomorrow ain't promised a tough
Pill to swallow
But Roxycodone ain't a tough pill to snort
It's a tough pill to kick
Always fall short, standin' tall
With my vice, fuck y'all for the sport
The money, the bitches, the fame
Feelin' like a hoard
Now I'm smokin' more ports
And I'm closer to death than I
Was when I was poor
Cooking pizzas in the kitchen
Passin' out on the couch
I'll die from being bored
(He'll die from bein' bored)
Sing a sad ass song with just four chords
Oh lord sing a sad ass song, another
Death in the 7th Ward, oh lord
Sing a sad ass song for Yung $now
Putting in hours at the morgue
Sing a sad ass song for
Another tally on the sword
Blizzard storm when I fucking mourn