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goon - eshs lyrics

[verse 1]
ain’t a fan of modern rap, so f*ck you and your snapchat
and soundcloud rapper, rapping*ass, f*ck off
richer than a middle*aged man who plays golf
driving home in a ford, with his head blown off
getting dome from a b*tch with no brain who wants a bone
willing to go low, if you know what i mean
checks don’t ever bounce because you know my cash is green
mean, is what they might call me, i’m a rapping machine
gun, spit, twist sh*t, like messages of a wishlist
kiss this, suck on deez b*tch, yeah you wish
more exclusive than the f*cking garden of eeee*
in my f*cking den, smoking a pound of og, yeah

[chorus]
flow is so r*t*rded, feelings disregarded
writing f*cking essays just to have them be discarded
bombarded with thoughts, a carpet bomb to go off
and pop just like a gun, sending a target to god

[verse 2]
bought some f*cking clothes
now i’m looking nice
buy a couple jewels and i’ll turn h*ll over to ice
f*ck, rolling dice with the devil, don’t gotta ask me twice
if the cold freezes over the flames and hate in one night
no, how the living f*ck should i know?
bro, even though i live here i don’t really pay close*
attention, and go fast so i don’t got to mention
my lack of giving f*cks on a regular basis
my case is unique, and so they call me a freak
and so i call ’em all waterheads, now my face goin’ be beat
and for a couple weeks, my ankle gonna feel weak
i put some blush on my cheek, and underline both my eyes
so that n0body can see, all of the black and blue marks
that like my heart’s on my sleeve, i wear on me all the time
and sticks and stones hurt my bones, but words have broke my d*mn t**th
but i don’t admit defeat, ’cause that would mean i ain’t right
and though i write with my left hand, on fam, godd*mn
you can get the f*ck out, b*tch am*scram, my flight
to amsterdam
sh*t, the f*ck am i even saying?
f*ck

[outro]
yo, hurb gnag all day

- eshs lyrics

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