Song 31 Lyrics
All my everything is for you
All my terrible sense of humor and critical interviews
All my pearly gated redemption and causal afternoonsAll this money you know I`m making like racing against the moon, but
I sell pain for profit
And I feel prophet watching
Everything is for everything rhyming with causality,
Ain`t no labels that`s backing me but my tickets be selling out
And I`m steady raising my feetus, another hit from the fee
This another hit from the phone
110 degrees in the desert heat
With a bubble coat, turtleneck underneath
Rolling up on the beach
Smoking a holy weed
Laughing baking my homie Tee
hoping joking is all we need
When I sell pain for profit
Now I binge watch Atlanta
No more TV representation from a Kelsy Grammer
Let`s toast to niggas getting checks who work behind the camera
Somebody raise they man up
Truth be told
I wear my heart on my sleeve
Watch you sit it on the shelf
Now my body got cold
I swear we`ll never leave
Had to do it for myself
To find my praise
Go, get your weapon
Real recognize real feeling like real proof
Real buddy-buddy after the trip to the Cancun
Million dollar baby bet you can get to the hands too
Got a pack of wolves ready to damage a full moon
The only bitch actually rapping, it look like me now
Or meow
Kitty just reimagined a freestyle
Dm flooded niggas still waiting for me to reach out
We shadow boxing government hoping they put the leash down
I sell pain for profit not propaganda
I know cancers origins link to Santa
I know Santa`s origins link to money
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Mass production of cattle, a slaughtering for the yummy
These niggas is clever, the prison no better
The ghost of the living
We ain`t talk about Reggie on Christmas we almost forget him
What`s a casket to a holding cell if a nigga ain`t in it
Only reason why I`m steady faded and still independent
Truth be told
I wear my heart on my sleeve
Watch you sit it on the shelf
Now my body got cold
I swear we`ll never leave
Had to do it for myself
To find my praise
Go, get your weapon
