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midwest blackheart - $ymbols lyrics

ignore your conscience

she had a lot to say
i wasn’t trying to hear it
she had a lot to say
i wasn’t trying to hear it
(b+tch, shut the f+ck up)
she had a lot to say
i wasn’t trying to hear it
eyes black (black) i can smell the spirit
thirst never quenched i got to get near it
$ymbols on the ground, stars align with the

the clock struck twelve and the doctor laughed
the skull came open and the patient gasped
the lord came in and removed her mask
the sun went black from the overcast
now it looks like we gotta have another blood session
fickle mother f+cker with a sickle, they don’t never learn their lesson
they want me to take it all to be alive must be depressing
might as well just put a f+cking slug through their f+cking family crest stamp
i’m too sl!ck with the throat slit, when it come to murder sh+t
i’m the one with my eyes rolled back and my toes crimped
keep your girl out the graveyard, or get your mother f+cking hoe pimped
dead d+ck don’t quit, ask her bruh
the b+tch so simp, i haven’t been soft since the first time i played just the tip
with a serrated blade flip, stick it in and twist till you hear it rip
don’t worry i won’t slip, i got a gorilla grip
i pride my whole style, on being intricate
don’t ask what’s in the backpack, i got the drugs by the pack mack
they make a hoe p+ssy react, i’m whippin’ in the hoopdie
that dirty b+tch ride in the back, she might go catch a bad rap
banging all on my trunk while i’m trying to focus
like i got time for all that
which brings up a thought as a matter of fact
catch you thumbing through your bills these hoes quick to attack
pros in the field stick to a pimp like a tac, so i’d consider contraceptive
and try not to get that ass jacked
she had a lot to say
i wasn’t trying to hear it
she had a lot to say
i wasn’t trying to hear it
she had a lot to say
i wasn’t trying to hear it
eyes black (black), i can smell the spirit
thirst never quenched i got to get near it
$ymbols on the ground, stars align with the

uhh
the clock struck twelve and the doctor laughed
clock, clock struck twelve and the doc. (doc)
the lord came in and removed her mask

watch out when that p+ssy get lock jaw
want you to go in raw, number one playa sin boy
beware of the monster in the ocean
throwing it back strong, taking the d+ck long, the same old lame song
don’t go getting lost up in the motion
so wrap it up like a shoe bomb, fill her face up with newborns
spit in her mouth and say soups on, i never show a b+tch emotion
now tell me why the h+ll these zombies following me
baby a daisy will do ya, i’ll give you a dallop of d
i call them all doc spocks, they whole life make believe
humanity out of this world, why the h+ll would i want to breathe
creep out my crypt, wipe the blood from my lip
let out a sigh of relief, and then it’s right back to slaying hoe
i don’t lose any sleep, shhhh
i think i hear somebody praying, it’s time to roll up my sleeves
i got to ride through the gray, got to take them out at the knees
last thing he heard, was the rustling leaves
d+mn russell put up a tussle
i had to turn his eyes into t’s
and just like all my ex’s, f+cked and left him to bleed
but he got a little special treatment see, i planted the seed
now inside this mind lies the crippling desire of greed
see evil always wins, why the h+ll would you challenge me
in the valley of shadows i am death, how the h+ll could you disagree
this ain’t no fairytale world, hoe no one deadly as me
f+ck the hollows, i’m the living dead
with the magick stick and iyc tapestry, trying to put a end to my blood reign
angel face f+cks after me, i’m so stone cold
medusa could get that p+ssy bruised casually
f+ck that snake headed hoe and leave her with atrophy
you so shook your b+tch ass would probably lay your snake at her feet
as you bow your head you lose it, and she bring the sh+t back to me
so we can laugh as we feast, beast hearted
every deed i’ve ever done, it was done dastardly
poppa was a cradle robber, i was meant to act b+st+rdly
think i’m out my gourd, but with this much gore on my mind
i got a rational plea, i never run low on flesh i’m the tax man of the cemetery
and every one of you weak f+cks will be treated fairly
souls collected annually, debt respected nationally
i don’t give a f+ck if you cremated, you ain’t going to get a pass from me
to even ask is blasphemy, like questions of a metaphysical nature
directed to a human being, b+tch shut the f+ck up
go make that money, and bring the sh+t back to me

- midwest blackheart lyrics

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