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yung kage - miss the rage - remix lyrics

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[intro: shleem pink!]
just like this sh+t
let’s f+ck this sh+t
baby, blow my brains out
baby, blow my

[chorus: shleem pink!]
can’t feel a d+mn thing
can’t feel a d+mn thing no more
can’t feel a d+mn thing
can’t feel a d+mn thing no more
sippin’ on the spot
yeah, pour it to the top
yeah, bad b+tch on my c+ck
counting money, never stop, yeah
baby, blow my
can’t feel a d+mn thing
can’t feel a d+mn thing no more
can’t feel a d+mn thing
[verse 1: xanakin skywok]
n++++s on they f+ck sh+t, let ’em drum hit
bussin’, i+i ain’t never love a b+tch, so f+ck this
it’s just more than that, you two been playing to rob, but don’t cliff
you a dumb sh+t, and you b+tch be done, but don’t cl!ck
cop the louie bags, hold but forty, crispy blues, rockin’ on
hit your blockin’ on, leave your iron fade, prog it up
n++++s i put on, but i know she really talking on
smoke a lot of woods, take your b+tch [?] her

[verse 2: yung kage]
we blowing brains out, you know
oh, cool b+tch, get that out the road
kn+knocking up, don’t want me stick now she hopping blunts
pop xans, got cold, i don’t feel no love
automatic with my shooters, we’ve just countеd up
two+two, i’m running shots like i’m coming up
miss me, i’m way too fast, that sh+t kinda suck
cutthroat, we taking chains, yеah, we choppin’ up
co+cool wrists, dead eyes be dancing like i’m outta though
cat sauce on the bit, told that post malone
cut them b+tch that i don’t know, i pop them hitters like chancellor
pop that p+ssy, we nacking up, hop it in these and light it up
in+in+in+in these days are done
i’d drive a drop top and be acrobat
porsche carrera, we called it up
knocking up, we skurting low
we blowing brains out, oh
[chorus: schleem pink!]
can’t feel a d+mn thing
can’t feel a d+mn thing no more
can’t feel a d+mn thing (yeah, yeah)
can’t feel a d+mn thing (yeah, yeah)

[verse 3: kiid spyro]
glo+glo+glocky in my pocket, test me, i’m gon’ f+cking pop it
shooting with that pocket rocket, don’t play with me, trying to stop it
f+ck up on this b+tch, they can’t b+tch this down (down)
they can’t b+tch this down (down), they can’t b+tch this down, down, down
throw it up, up, up, audi
she gon’ suck, suck, suck, suck, suckety (bam)
we+we gon’ take his motherf+cking chain
i+i+i+i+i don’t give a f+ck about a thing
effin’ on me, i go f+cking “ay”
hollow tips b+tch they full of blanks
i can’t f+ck with shorty cause she lame (lame)
fevies in here bustin’ out your brain (brain)
i can keep on playing all these games (games)
i can keep on slaying all these gangs (gang, gang)

[chorus: shleem pink!]
can’t feel a d+mn thing
can’t feel a d+mn thing no more
can’t feel a d+mn thing
can’t feel a d+mn thing no more
sippin’ on the spot
yeah, pour it to the top



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