lirik lagu rjldiablo – blood on my hands
[chorus]
i got blood on my hands, uh, yeah
we been cookin’ up bands, oh, yeah
you shouldn’t f~ck with the man (nah, you shouldn’t f~ck with the man)
oh lord, i need forgiveness right now (i need forgiveness right now)
’cause i got blood on my hands (yeah, i got blood on my hands)
same old stab wound, dumb motherf~cker got shot in the pants
i be rockin’ in vans (yeah, i be rockin’ in vans)
we pulled up in a van (skrt)
shot that motherf~cker and ran (yeah, we shot him and run)
listen here, god, i got blood on my hands
i got blood on my hands; blood on my shoes
blood on my hands, yeah, i got blood on my hands
[verse 1]
double cups full of stuff i wanna sip
floatin’ like a ship; take out my nacho dip
she thinkin’ i’m a crip (yeah, she do), but i’m not, i’m a d~ck (i’m a d~ck)
doin’ dirty in the back (yeah, we are), c~ck the gun, pull it back
shot that motherf~cker, thе news gonna cover up that (yeah, thеy will)
man, i’ll unbuckle my pants (yuh), then i’ll cook up a band
spent it on a new home, f~ck a brand new whip
get security to keep the paparazzi out my sh~t (keep ’em out)
off a pill, off a trip (yeah, i am), take a nap, slit my wrists
blood on my hands and the sofa
put all my bands by my chauffer
then drive off to the coast, uh
finna pull up by a costa
them motherf~ckers gave me no coaster!
(~bang~bang~)
(~swerve~)
[chorus]
i got blood on my hands, uh, yeah
we been cookin’ up bands, oh, yeah
you shouldn’t f~ck with the man (nah, you shouldn’t f~ck with the man)
oh lord, i need forgiveness right now (i need forgiveness right now)
’cause i got blood on my hands (yeah, i got blood on my hands)
same old stab wound, dumb motherf~cker got shot in the pants
i be rockin’ in vans (yeah, i be rockin’ in vans)
we pulled up in a van (skrt)
shot that motherf~cker and ran (yeah, we shot him and run)
listen here, god, i got blood on my hands
i got blood on my hands; blood on my shoes
blood on my hands, yeah, i got blood on my hands
[verse 2]
the cops knew somethin’ was planned (oh, yeah)
pull up by us, we fumblin’ around (oh, yeah)
them motherf~ckers finna come ’round the back
find the evidence, then shoot us, infact
they might even hide our bodies by the country road tracks
’cause it’s not like the world loves us, we cracked
the entire idea of makin’ sweet bands
we made 11 in a week, we only needed our gats
i guess they see us as tw~ts
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