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miss the rage - remix - yung kage lyrics

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[intro: shleem pink!]
just like this sh*t
let’s f*ck this sh*t
baby, blow my brains out
baby, blow my

[chorus: shleem pink!]
can’t feel a d*mn thing
can’t feel a d*mn thing no more
can’t feel a d*mn thing
can’t feel a d*mn thing no more
sippin’ on the spot
yeah, pour it to the top
yeah, bad b*tch on my c*ck
counting money, never stop, yeah
baby, blow my
can’t feel a d*mn thing
can’t feel a d*mn thing no more
can’t feel a d*mn thing
[verse 1: xanakin skywok]
n****s on they f*ck sh*t, let ’em drum hit
bussin’, i*i ain’t never love a b*tch, so f*ck this
it’s just more than that, you two been playing to rob, but don’t cliff
you a dumb sh*t, and you b*tch be done, but don’t cl!ck
cop the louie bags, hold but forty, crispy blues, rockin’ on
hit your blockin’ on, leave your iron fade, prog it up
n****s i put on, but i know she really talking on
smoke a lot of woods, take your b*tch [?] her

[verse 2: yung kage]
we blowing brains out, you know
oh, cool b*tch, get that out the road
kn*knocking up, don’t want me stick now she hopping blunts
pop xans, got cold, i don’t feel no love
automatic with my shooters, we’ve just countеd up
two*two, i’m running shots like i’m coming up
miss me, i’m way too fast, that sh*t kinda suck
cutthroat, we taking chains, yеah, we choppin’ up
co*cool wrists, dead eyes be dancing like i’m outta though
cat sauce on the bit, told that post malone
cut them b*tch that i don’t know, i pop them hitters like chancellor
pop that p*ssy, we nacking up, hop it in these and light it up
in*in*in*in these days are done
i’d drive a drop top and be acrobat
porsche carrera, we called it up
knocking up, we skurting low
we blowing brains out, oh
[chorus: schleem pink!]
can’t feel a d*mn thing
can’t feel a d*mn thing no more
can’t feel a d*mn thing (yeah, yeah)
can’t feel a d*mn thing (yeah, yeah)

[verse 3: kiid spyro]
glo*glo*glocky in my pocket, test me, i’m gon’ f*cking pop it
shooting with that pocket rocket, don’t play with me, trying to stop it
f*ck up on this b*tch, they can’t b*tch this down (down)
they can’t b*tch this down (down), they can’t b*tch this down, down, down
throw it up, up, up, audi
she gon’ suck, suck, suck, suck, suckety (bam)
we*we gon’ take his motherf*cking chain
i*i*i*i*i don’t give a f*ck about a thing
effin’ on me, i go f*cking “ay”
hollow tips b*tch they full of blanks
i can’t f*ck with shorty cause she lame (lame)
fevies in here bustin’ out your brain (brain)
i can keep on playing all these games (games)
i can keep on slaying all these gangs (gang, gang)

[chorus: shleem pink!]
can’t feel a d*mn thing
can’t feel a d*mn thing no more
can’t feel a d*mn thing
can’t feel a d*mn thing no more
sippin’ on the spot
yeah, pour it to the top

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