Top Songs By Blaksmif
Credits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Blaksmif
Künstler:in
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Johnathan Robert Fournier
Songwriter:in
Edward Lee Peyton
Songwriter:in
Dylan William Taylor
Songwriter:in
Lyrics
Don't just get him outta the ring
Get him outta the WWF
Because I'm through son
Without a shadow of a doubt
You ain't got what it takes anymore
You sit there
And you thump your Bible
And you say your prayers
And it didn't get you anywhere
Talk about your Psalms
Talk about John 3:16
Austin 3:16 says "I just whooped your ass"
Ha you already know what it is
Slime Po made this
L-Look
Look
Look
I said
Drop dead gorgeous
I am the finer things in life
Flood the rings with ice
Make you confuse
Bling with lights
Counter counting
Need a mountain top
So I can sing the price
Think you nice
I think you soft
So I can wink ya wife
It's my decision
If she finna have a fling tonight
I brought brown
But somehow
She still drinkin white
Let me save you the suspense
If you think it's sprite
It's nut, what?
You don't believe me
Go and bring the lights
For bodily fluids
We gotta be
The hottest to do this
Since the rza mixed
Karate with music
Here lies the competition
Which is oddly the truest
Tryna be Christ like
But you know when I see a Judas
Dippin his bread at the same time
I shoot his leg
Then his head
With the same 9
Innocent man made blind
Witnesses and daytime
This is not ya wedding
Engage with me in this ring
You get the proper setting
I made his bitch poison his food
She got him fed &
When his optics bled
He broke out like small pox was spreading
Bitch a cougar with a lot of bread &
She a groupie
I mean that pussy been juicy
Since big poppa said it
She told me that ya cock pathetic
Lack of guaps upsetting
And you ain't movin
That mean the energy is not kinetic
She used a poisonous Recipe
That she got from Reddit
Ask me to help for a tank of gas
And it's not unleaded
Fuck who you claimin the best
I'm David Koresh
I been angry and stressed
It's time to stick this blade into flesh
Yo don't play me
I said I'm crazy
You lazy then rest
Me and Blak been on the pavement
Gettin paid to be fresh
Ayo, Rap heads play me
Stack bread daily
Get the Mac fed
Bitch you just a crackhead baby
Even if I'm half dead
Still'll blast led crazy
Blak said
"Get the fat spread"
We stacked ten maybe
I don't rap for jokes
Slap the host
Get stabbed and poked
Best believe
I'm crackin yokes
If you packin toast
Word 2 me, I burn for free
You gettin taxed for smoke
Growin up
Ain't have a dollar so I had to hope
I been the shit since jump street jerk
These punks sweet
I come and dump heat
You fucks need work
Out ya whole cd
I ain't hear one clean verse
These dirty motherfuckers don't have
One clean shirt
I get you done in for free
Ayo, you gunnin for me?
That'd be somethin to see
Bitch, I'll put a slug in ya tee
This year I'm seein 80
You a bum in the street
Plus ya bitch let me cum in the V
Ayo who fuckin with D
Written by: Dylan William Taylor, Edward Lee Peyton, Johnathan Robert Fournier
