mbs lyrics lyrics
(intro)
mbs
y’all ain’t sh+t
claiming your sh+t is lit
y’all got no heat
i’ll blow y’all out like matchsticks
and f+ck this lighter challenge
this is heat from h+ll’s furnace, b+tch!!!
(verse)
here’s the reason you didn’t
hear my voice since
it’s cause i was hidden in the evil
part of your conscience
the devil’s pleading
‘please reason with your audience
be reeling in a milli sinning as my f+cking offsprings’
don’t be scared, come closer
i just want to burn some bread
like your toaster;
but cut your heads with my sonar
then score more deaths than ebola
a sun that gets paid
to emit f+cking death rays
the kind of messed case
to arrive with a first aid;
slice your brains with, knives
then take your, mind
your babes with, rhymes insane
my favourite games are laboured wordplays:
you kids spit sh+t
speak with deep pits
twist sh+t with sweet bits
but this g will still be
at the top of the weak
like it’s freaking sunday…
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