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yamatto - attached to evil lyrics

there’s a differ i’m tryna express
all off this anger management inside of my ‘dula i’ma tryna collect
tried to confess in a little tone
disinfected by some minerals
since my liver used too punch out seven holes so all dis liquor could float through my belly, it’s h-ll when you sleep to cope
with these spirits
instead off just breeding wars, let’s diminish
and flee to spark
through the wire like peter parker, still a kid at heart
but a bit too smart too let these literal thoughts conclude inner laws
in a moshpit with a little sawed off shotgun
c-cks back like a thot
replenished these parts like a repertoire

f-cked up on a hiigh level
don’t blow my hiigh
don’t get my mind better
don’t sugarcoat it, i get diabetic
y’all undercooked, giving me salmonella

not a h-ssle for me too get ignorant
scribble some sh-t
put a price on my penmanship
pallets of pebbles go through the emb-ssy
got residue still on my debit, ohh imbecile
lemme see?
“got enough of this sh-t?”
is it really enough benefits
uhh noo, but we got dividends
too cover it up
senses sent up too nostrils
diabolical blow
scramble the bowl
before u get thrown away, either way
it’s just like my old man’s say
aye
when it’s appalling we balling
call it
trunk fits a lot of alcoholics
marvellous, call it in
i’m all in my f-cking sp-ce
and i ain’t leaving no motherf-cker erase this

f-cked up on a hiigh level
don’t blow my hiigh
don’t get my mind better
don’t sugarcoat it, i get diabetic
y’all undercooked, giving me salmonella

i swear
they got me f-cked up on a hiigh level
i can’t even enjoy this nice weather
got me rollin’ round with my white sweater
kettles full of neglect poorin’ down on my umberella

4 zips of the g-ss
old b-tch, new -ss
jump it like kriss-kross with a pogo-stick trying to crash
told her, come around of the homies tho
poor some more of that holy moly
then she catch this d-ck, like the holy ghost
order me dough from the backstore
roll up that frontoo
smoke up a bag then i bag up 40 more
need a 44 tucked in my denim
cops on forensics but im ducking low
hold on tight like kenny’s cornrows
got that menthol flow, leave a bar froze
earn ya stripes, check up on ya barcode
get ya whole bar post embargoed
it’s like, any rapper could get top notch
toe to toe now they be toting poles
told me yupp roll me up before i hit the mic
had the whole coast yelling: “bro you dope!”
and i go on until im over those, never od
but i’m close to floatin’ over dead bodies like casper the ghost
turnt this casket to home
receiving my dome up in afterlife
made me c-m harder than last night b-tch
d-mn right! bumping ready to die
tell em step aside
been attached to this evil, now i’m sanctified
tell em one more time
i could tell they look terrified
testify, leave the pen aside
i could read through ya third eye

f-cked up on a hiigh level
don’t blow my hiigh
don’t get my mind better
don’t sugarcoat it, i get diabetic
y’all undercooked, giving me salmonella

i swear
they got me f-cked up on a hiigh level
i can’t even enjoy this nice weather
got me rollin’ round with my white sweater
kettles full of neglect poorin’ down on my umberella

- yamatto lyrics

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