lirik lagu muze sikk - legend 11
it’s in my denim
it’s in my jeans
this ain’t no demo
young billy dean
ya feel me deep
in ya cave of brahman
when i phase ya brain
i’m in a state of conscious
surrounded by abundance
gl-ss half full
when i take another sip
the gl-ss still full
the caste that i mold will impact my soul
surp-ss my fold till i p-ss my goals
imagine my goals getting p-ssed tenfold
imagine my -ss on a jet blowing douja
got a couple keys to couple of doors
got a couple deeds to a couple of coasts
time is an allusion to any illusion
dying in confusion is dying and losing
crucial
this is how we clue the doops in
without a new sense – you is a nuisance
now is when you choose
will you supply or abuse it?
provide or rely ?
its a simple solution
but sikk; how am i supposed to grow and improve when
i’m glued to the tube like a noob with two cents
you need to understand i was once where you is
and realize my life wasn’t mine for the choosing
but when i took the wheel and said f-ck who is losing
including my self i made a pact to do sh-t
i don’t b-mp music that isn’t by muze sikk
i don’t f-ck floosys and i don’t suck dookies
i was writing songs back in middle school stupid
i was looping loops back in middle school stupid
whose the motherf-cker that doesn’t get wit the ruckus huh ?
shook a suckuh up with a couple of knuckles huh huh ?
the venomll get em if i didn’t get em to suffocate
send em to a dentist in venice
who can’t resuscitate
say no more and out they go
they don’t wanna get involved
ain’t no more being practical
ain’t no more that i can show
send em home shaking
i bend em but don’t break em
centerfold spanking
i’m sending her home naked
sh-t is so crazy when none of these foes faze me
i’m sending my soul to satin as soon as i’m going major
i’ve settled the scores lately
i’m fed up with yours lately
instead of applause pay me
i’m better than y’alls favorites
b-tch you better pray you don’t see me in the streets
imma spit on your shoes
imma skeet on your sleeve
sleep is for weak hearted people
the feet is for stinking
kinky things
and running sh-t b-tch
you might have to stomach this fist
get glitched
clique up
suck sikks spit
get ripped off
f-ck thick chicks in the trunk of a pick up truck
i wanna blunt i can flick and stick up
in the air
i don’t really care
arm out the window
with a pocket full of glare
b-tch be humble
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