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voices/voices - lord black lyrics

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verse 1:
b-tch i’m jumping outta portal
i’m half immortal
if the world war coming
ima get resourceful
n-ggas like me live with no morals
they say life is a beach
i don’t do corals
caught up in a rap trap
caught a pastor
we gonna burn the pages before we write the chapter
way too many questions i could never ask but
i might build a time machine and chase the past bruh
we spend
half of our life sleeping
eating
the devil don’t do no greetings
evening
i might just cut one ear
‘çause it might save me from all the sh-t that i don’t wanna hear
f-ck fear tryna find the juice
all the money might buy a noose
how i feel when i watch the news
all the blues can’t find a clue
i’m like elon musk
all cremate elon dust
[?]
call the boy need dip and cup
i might just run into the bank with a loaded tommy gun
frustration makes so much fun
parents asking me where the funds
mind ain’t seen peace in months
i might just hit the blunt
how the f-ck i know everything
but can’t figure out what i want
pressure pushing b-tch i’m pressure cooking
i might k!ll a n-gga if he try finesse the booking
i might pop sh-t if it come to a deposit
tryna stop it but i’m running out of options
i’ve been calling
i’ve been ringing up the angels
picture perfect like a n-gga know his angles
if i’m a slave
can i vvs the bangles
the f-cking shackles
diamonds dancing around my ankles
never thank you
they gonna miss you when it’s too late
feel like batman
right before he battled two-face
was it worth it?
guess he did for a new face
was it worth it?
guess he did for a new face
shooting for your dream until your dreams shoot you
what you did it for?
some new shoes
why you sell your soul?
a new coupe
what you running from?
a new you
made a lil’ change
a new you
everybody saying
i knew you
everybody saying
i knew you
learn the rules bend the rules
it’s a habit
if you reaching for my spot then you can have it
i ain’t got no compet-tion
i got practice
i’ve been winning like a mother f-cking match-fix
light a ciggy with my finger f-ck a match-stick
on god
i’m a walking fire hazard
son
these n-gga are my dash
i’m absinth
hit from the back
[?]
handing out plaques not for rap but for acting
i can’t hang with n-ggas that do too much asking
oh they wish patty boy would get back on his sad sh-t
i just left the gym and now i’m out here spazzing
i remember when these b-tches didn’t want me
now i have no game
ain’t gotta do no talking
i’m so far ahead
i overlap them when i’m walking
n-ggas never bite
they just do a lot of barking
i was still the sh-t when i was going gnarls barkley
ima k!ll the game and make success haunt me
they might try mark me because they can’t out bar me
f-ck out my lane
make that boy go do rnb
huollup
[?]
[?]

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