Paroles de '93 Premium' par $uicideBoy$

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Uh, got a blunt, pop a trunk
Fill it with a fuckboy, bitchboy spillin' his guts
Stomach acid mixed with blood
Staining my all-white white-laced SB Dunks
Cop a couple bucks out his back pocket, wallet got to have something
Otherwise, I gotta snatch something, so I pulled out his heart from his chest
Left the rest for his bitch and then left them, I ditched for the seventh
Fuck a motherfucker duckin', tuckin' in his tail
I got a bone to pick with motherfuckers tryna see me fail
Creepin' like a vulture, bitch, I'm following his trail
Picking on his bones for the flesh, leave the flies with the rest
Leave his body growing pale
Close his mouth with nails, dead men tell no tales!

Yung Jack Torrance with some bodies in the storage
Lil' broke motherfucker with enough to pay the mortgage
Got that torture in my barrel, them ghosts inhibit my mind
It's that $uicidal junkie, Yung Scorcese of my time
I'm creepin' with *59 in the Overlook Hotel
Taking one look at us, you can tell we come from hell
I'm smoking and chanting spells, packing a couple bells
Poppin' waves back to back, I'm always riding the swell

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With all these drugs in my system, be hard to keep my attention
The narrow run full of tempt to
I see no one but these figures
The risk of losing existence
The only reason I’m itching, itching to change up my present
Without me switching the mission of making millions
Intention to get it quickly and strictly ‘bout
Getting money not flexin', then get some bitches start flexin'
And snatch a ring just for fun
'Til I strike them digits and add it to ya
You’d be wishing that you would’ve fucking listened
Wish you listened to me

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