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lirik lagu ace lono - freestyle state of mind

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[intro: ace lono]
they ask me what i am to these beats

[verse 1 ace lono]
i’m a k!ller, si, yes adjacent to jason
a common side, couple homicides, when i write i recline like i’m high
see my state of mind is ny, sky scr-pper high, enter the enterprise
of my mind, sci-fi, authors couldn’t contemplate complications
or fathom, my thoughts seem random to some, an aquarium, but um
not so transparent, it’s apparent that my bredren bred for failure
save the talk about a saviour, with that line i probably waiver
my faith cus, incase you didn’t know, cash rules everything around me
every single day these white faces surround me, i’m way too dark
to take things lightly, i’m likely to get 5-9 for accusations of a crime
just cus i ain’t got a nine to five, and dat four five, got nine lives
that i ain’t take, but if i got a couple commas in the bank, i’ll be safe
like the s-x that they tell you to practice, but i be ballin like magic
but my johnson stay strapped like houdini
yahnaskanameanie, 05 weezy, the way i make it look, easy, off the head
off the heazy, can’t help but feel like the game need me, like the needy need
the greedy, which be acting stevie to the feed me signs n cries
and the lies they be telling, h-lla wellen, on the watermelon, cotton pickers
scratch backs, ching chongs, crackers, and any other race, cus poor is poor
no matter the color, and it’s the reason why they locked me and my mother
cryed for days, i always dreamed i’d escape, i need a break, a getaway..

[comment 1 al snipa]
iight ace, i really feel whatchu doing with this son, real creative, i like it
but what i’mma need you to do, you gone have to kick it up son
i’m not sure if the critics convinced bruh, you gotta convince these mother f-ckers

[comment 2 ace lono]
iight, iight word word, i’mma hit em with this man

[verse 2 ace lono]
i swear its kinda sickenen bro, racist -ss b-st-rd called me alien like piccolo
crackers picked us cotton pickers, grandaddy f-cking lynched us, now some n-ggas pocket pickers
after martin marched for months to fight so we can eat some lunch, in the same spots at opposites
conglomerates, excuse me if i f-ckin spit this venom sh-t, your spidey senses ting-ah-lin
should be cus your girl is on my ding-a-ling, said she love it when i sing, then get deep in her vocals
yea she yoddles like the locals out in who knows, cus i don’t, but i flow, and i spit dat yayo…


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