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flym_e2them00n! - fukcortez lyrics

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b*tch i feel like kanye off his f*cking meds
cancel sh*t cause of my f*cking stress
chop up beats and vocals just to impress
myself i might not even put this on the shelf
demos rewrites and new vocal takes
that’s my personal h*ll
old ideas new wav files
old beats new textiles
when it comes to work
p*ssy i’m in that first percentile
old b*tches come to me to vent now
just leave em feeling left out
i’ve took the dеtour, found a new route
put you to the flamе like lūʻau
merely living proof now
of talent grouped up with vultures who come and swoop down
carti b*tch i’m going to the moon!
barbie you’re the dumbass of the group
net junk the house where i’m spitting in the booth
team full of f*ggots charlie puth
your clique imaginary call em blu
not no kid still in school
ima f*cking artist doing sh*t you wish you could
b*tch
digital aids:
b*tch i feel content without my fix
yet feeling pent up in this bliss
i’m sending letters through my fist
ain’t got vendettas, not one to diss
for two weeks been fed up, just taking hits
am i lesser? make a mess of all my friendships if i slip
no fall from grace cuz i have yet to find a face
plus this laced up sl*t been f*cking every basket case
that i have come upon
trace ain’t what i leave
so placements up in arms
i’m slow to every little thing yet races never won
by any f*cking racist where i stay
cuz they my stepping stones
see those mistakes take the cake flip it
and you best make sure the ovens on
cuz this heat we deliver cannot be faked
yet half my meals microwaved
vibrations keep me sane
what’s been in my head?
drown it out with sh*t chris just sent
apathy spinning when my show ends
cold hands around my throat
no blood flow when is it coming back
i need to throw hands
breaking both our bones till the stones win
b*tch

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