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believe - swag toof lyrics

[verse 1: choirboy]
how we know who to believe when they say sh-t
thin line between the real and the fake sh-t
face it the truth still ain’t in there in what you reading in papers
most places (?)
skeleton in the closet got bones in the bas-m-nt
only way to know you saved you fake it
i guess i’m patient
i’m jaded don’t know if i’ll make it it
trial through fire boy we ain’t (?)
don’t need no love need no favors dangerous
(?)
stomach aching so we taking got me sinning for the paper
long as choir the fucc up outta dodge and ouija out of vegas
we grateful godd-mn god bless us
(?) 25 bottles (?)
gotta get paid so i’m still stressing pressure
(?) still in no stretcher
can’t believe in your make believe cause that bullsh-t don’t impress us
that web you weave got you deceived you destined for some lessons
tired of the fake sh-t
tired of the racists
tired of the ratchets
tired of the basics
tired of the world ready for revelations
tired of the lies put the fire to ya faces
hoodie in a halo scheming
knowing everybody got demons
don’t know where i’m going when i’m leaving
but he give me something to believe in

[hook: choirboy]
everyday i’m in the streets finding peace with a piece will they finally murder me (lets see!)
believe what you believe
we can ask him just to eat, deal with good and evil peeps
does a gangster rest in peace? (lets see!)
are you praying on your knees?
is that bacon on your feast?
you confessing to the priest (lets see!)
believe what you believe
when you’re gone will people grieve?
will your death be a relief?
where you going when you leave? (lets see!)
believe what you believe

[verse 2: ouija]
look
i don’t believe in you b-tches (no!)
praying but n-body listens (no!)
jehovah ain’t live with what i’m living though i was taught what to do with a witness
vicious!
talking about how you ballin’
all of your shooters is starving
voicemail when i’m calling god but satan talk to me often (hey!)
my horns poking i’m pitchforkin’
my life hail and this sh-t storming
these k!lling fields when my clicc storming till 5 shots and i’m still rolling
it’s ouija b-tch you heard of me
my tomb ready come murder me with a red bull and a blt (?) don’t occur to me
my braids hanging i’m fucced up
your b-tch liccin’ my nuts up
my haters breathing they lucked up cause my line singing like “what’s up!”
you waiting on a blessing what you getting is a curse
ain’t got’ hit my knees to praise a god to get on his verse
i’ve been spit on
i’ve been sh-t on since i been on this earth
i believe you got it coming and you slipping you get hurt
i believe ain’t nothing worth obtaining come without some work (thats right!)
keep a weapon ain’t no heaven boy we destined for the dirt (hah)

[hook]

- swag toof lyrics

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