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death plus - piss lyrics

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[verse 1: lil peep]
i hit the dope two time, take the stress off my mind
i hit the coast, and i ride, coming quick on your side
i’m like a ghost half the time, i’m just creepin’ behind
i’m never slow, i follow, take your soul, you hollow
b-ss kickin’ like your b-tch, kidnap her for kicks
come 6, poppin’ sticks, while she biting my lip
don’t flip, don’t dip, better not move too quick
i take that grip right off your hip and smack yo’ -ss with the clip
hollow tip spit, like a blue-nose pit
hold my sh-t, i’ma f-ck your b-tch
b-mp three-6, while i cut my wrist
funk my kicks, then i break the rim
when i dunk that sh-t, bloodstain the timb
no sh-t, got razor blades in my fist, taking lists
only time i put the blade down
when i gotta pick up my pen
f-ck your benz, i’ma paint the cadillac black
can’t see me in the night, with the lights off (nah)
quicksand on the white walls
living life on the edge, b-tch, i might fall (might fall)
don’t give a f-ck what they say about me (nope)
peep won’t rest ’till i rest in peace
s on my chest when i come up on the beat
full moon flex while you motherf-ckers sleep

[hook: lil peep]
make my will, while i take my pills
give your b-tch chills, when i make my bills
if i get k!lled, i know i’ma die real
stay real still, you already know the deal
you already know the deal
lil peep poppin’ henny bottles, f-ck a seal
i love the way it feel, so i do it for the thrill
say she wanna chill, b-tch i know the f-cking deal
(f-cking deal)

[verse 2: death+]
young shady motherf-cker, really scary when i’m comin’
if you hear me get running, when you see me, get low
see the profit, bands in my pockets
so i’m skunkin’ up and gettin’ back on my flow
white trash boys, just some white trash boys
flipping up the middle finger to these motherf-ckin’ hoes
i ain’t talking ’bout the women, nah, i’m talking ’bout these b-tches
that be pushin’ all your music and they sell that flow
i never gave a f-ck about a deal
so i ain’t ever f-cking with them, man, that’s how it is
all these internet b-tches hoppin’ on my d-ck
life turning into sh-t, i’m finna slit my wrists
spittin’ a miss and flickin’ my wrist, to these b-tch boys
all i ever hear you do is talk sh-t, boy
i hear you rappin’ ’bout the trap, but it ain’t sh-t boy
hoe, i been on my f-cking grind, and ain’t got sh-t for it
what the f-ck b-tch? robbing ain’t gon’ cut it, b-tch
you got no creativity, you ain’t no artist, b-tch
you ain’t a thug, you ain’t a g, you ain’t the hardest, b-tch
you just a p-ssy -ss motherf-cker starting sh-t
i spark a blunt, blow the smoke to the f-cking breeze
thinking “how the f-ck i get out of these f-cking trees?”
climbing up, to the top, to the f-cking leaves
i can’t even f-cking see what’s underneath

[hook 2: death+]
too high, too much, so alive, but i’m done
smokin’ up in the dust and it’s all i ever loved
i don’t wanna hear about it now
all i ever wanna see are clouds
too high, too much, so alive, but i’m done
smokin’ up in the dust and it’s all i ever loved
i don’t wanna hear about it now
all i ever wanna see are clouds



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