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100 gecs – ​coffin on the dancefloor lyrics


[verse 1: $l!ck $loth & sophie]
artificial bloom
outside in an all black ride
hydroponic skin
tint rolled up when i’m high
said they all wanna live, but i just wanna die
chemical release
motherf-cker, if you’re looking for me, find me in the night
i got a knife, don’t wanna fight
synthesize the real
i wanna take your f-cking life, and end it right on sight
when i strike, if you bark, better bite
plastic surgery
block hot, f-ck the cops, pop a six-shot glock
then i trot to the rocks, with me own blood clot
social dialect
red-dot, bodies drop when i c-ck, then i spot
no tomb, no plot, throw ’em off of the yacht, undocked
positive results
with the slot of the skull hangin’ in the f-cking river, ho
doc-ments of life
$ui-$uicide, 6-6-6, -59, so cynical

[verse 2: yung plague & mozart’s sister]
got a pound in the blunt, i’m loungin’
pour another round, i’m drownin’
climb to the top, i will jump off the mountain, ayy
swerve, swervin’ in a motherf-cking all-white crown vic’
blue light mounted, siren howlin’
stole it from a cop because he popped another brown kid
my face is the front of shop
got the town lit up by the flame that i made from my grey serenade, make way for the plague
my face is the real shop front
on the seventh day, grey bodies lay in they graves
my shop is the face i front, front
still got the badge, still got the gun
still got the patch, still got the stun
i’m real when i shop my face
still got the cash, b-tch, i burn it for fun
put the glock to my skull then i—

[verse 3: pouya & sophie and mozart’s sister]
scalpel, lipstick, gel
action, camera, lights
yuh, yuh, yuh
violence in your heart
$outh $ide $uicide, k!ll yourself, ho
say you gettin’ money, but your numbers don’t show, you a liar
memories of love
baseball bat fully wrapped in barbed wire
for anyone that’s tryna get by us
i been thinkin’ a lot
i see these rappers tryna get at my spot
robb told me you gotta get it how you live
told that b-tch, “you better get up out my biz”
pickle-breath–ss ho with a face like thizz (shut the f-ck up)
you don’t want no issue with
nose seen more blow than most nose seen a tissue
i got anxiety so i can’t really do an interview
don’t come close to me
my face is the front of shop
i’m not the one to really do it how it’s ‘posed to be
independent, tell the label to get over me
my face is the real shop front
i’m over here with my peers gettin’ rich point blank
before i bring her to the crew make sure that b-tch don’t stink
my shop is the face i front, front
ain’t no rules to the game, talk how you want
walk how you want, my job is the sh-t
i’m real when i shop my face
i used to clean up sh-t from the rim of the toilet
now i’m gettin’ money, i don’t gotta pack a pistola

[outro: pouya & mozart’s sister]
so you must be
okay, maybe, ’cause jealousy make a man go crazy
the one that i’ve seen in my dreams
money make a motherf-cker hate me
1000 b-tches, they all wanna date me
come on, touch me
set my spirit free