lirik lagu s&k - mad as hell
you’re as illiterate, as a five year old child
when my flow gets intimate, i make every hoe cry
you know i don’t give a sh-t, only guns, no knives
i’m talking out my -ss about some sh-t that ain’t my life
but i don’t give a sh-t, told you that sh-t twice
my flow is something special you should know i got my own style
don’t get scared from ghost stories, cause i write my own rhymes
every word that’s on this paper came from this soul mind (uh)
you know i be ballin (uh)
dunk this joint, i’m michael jordan (uh)
roll a few spliffs up at ten in the morning
got the aa back home calling (uh)
my sh-t is interesting
got a flow so unique, but still only one guy listening?
the guy who made this sick beat, the combination we bring
in a few years, we will be the biggest thing
this is greatness in the making, the sh-t we will be creating
calls for perseverance, only winning, there will be no failing
don’t give up, is what they say, well i won’t
but i’ll do it my way. i know
they’ll be talking sh-t, i let it be, i’m like the beatles
all day i be trapping in my yellow submarin (uh)
got yo’ hoe in my bed begging: please please me
don’t know cr-p about this, i reference wikipedia (uh)
[beat switch]
this beat is switching
like your opinion
when i start to talk, you better sit down and listen
to the advice i have given, about the green and the sipping
stop worrying and start to just enjoy living
puffing all this green
i am feeling mean
’bout to slay every beat
my g, throws at me
i only write hits from now on, get rid of
this b-tch, she got expensive taste, go figure
can’t let this talent go to waste, decisions
the shots i’ve fired are only a grace of my ammunition (uh)
i forget all things, my brain is melted from this green (uh)
smoking all day, my friends call me wiz khalifa
but referring to the slaughter i cause with these bars
the name that fits me best would be the grim reaper
i’m writing some trash
i’ve gotten some ash
on my pants
‘cuz i’m too lazy to stand
and smoke outside my door
what would i do that for?
i’d rather smoke here and get ashes
on my desk and on the floor
i be smokin’ on that j.o.i.n
the t is for posers, i ain’t frontin with such men
talk about the same thing over and over again
my life is just too easy, je n’ai pas de problèmes
i’m mad speedy, they call me furious and fast
le vin de la france, c’est le best
i’ve got diesel in my tank, i’m not talking ‘bout no gas
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