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fyre - espn beat lyrics

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{sw-nk}
hold your hand to ya chest, and feel the devil feastin’
hearts starve for rest but we can’t stop dreamin’
pictures of death when life begins bleedin’
[tormented by ?] [yourself to leave decievin’?]
[branded?] by sweat, born in the grievin’
raised by our dead, i pray not to be sleepin’
went off with the check, the road for recedin’
without my flesh, [is?] natural, [just?] breathe we abandoned our breath
maybe let the beast in so you can let him go
walk the streets [?] this [lights? low?]
to lose the love of pleasin’, well that’s no chance to grow
would you like play with my disconnected soul
i believe one more drag would make this [?]
put your hands on ya chest and listen to your soul, n-gg-

{young g}
ayo rollin’ slow, blow indo on the go
i gotta have shine, why try, [by fry?]
[fills??] [my time?]
gets blazed, so [?] sticky [??] of a 50
wish swiftly, switch in the left side, next [side?], death [side?], text [?]
[?] [clef side?] west side
god provide [?] sunlight, glide outside
[four ?] techniques
every trip has it’s valleys and it’s peaks

{stefan burnett}
plastic flowers in dirty clothes
in the bathroom blowin’ my nose
the mirror’s ugly, you know how it goes
don’t look at me i’m broke as a joke
black -ss junkie hooked on dope
spent the last of my money on a bar of soap
never thought it’d be like this
empty beer bottles, chapped lips
on the bottom and i can’t switch
too late to turn back, too early to trip
put my head down, trying to sleep
counted a million psychadelic sheep
could’ve been a billion but i can’t keep track no more
it’s gettin’ deep and i’m gettin’ bored
feelin’ like a piece of sh-t on the floor



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