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atomic farmhouse - crab cake lyrics
[verse 1: lawson vladimir]
baby girl we the coldest refrigerators told me stab you with a middle finger – f-ck your life sitting in the dark blinded by the light/ children starting to overdose on our music it’s best too cop before it’s all sold out
[verse 2: anti]
he who dies from my hand will leave this earth in first cl-ss you won’t last versus the man responsible for half of flooding the streets with that raw sh-t if you ain’t using then you know somebody buying or curious of trying
[verse 3: lawson vladimir]
you never too old to dream you never too young too sleep we came from nothin’ so we want too see it all plus more selling the toxic to doctors the cowards who disbelieve is now playing fortune cookie
[verse 4: anti]
i think i’m sl!ck rick the ruler houdini chop em’ up preserve his body in a cooler- you foolish rick james said toxic is a h-ll of a drug white girls gettin’ faded tellin’ me they can’t feel they, faces
[verse 5: lawson vladimir]
tables turn when you once you on front covers then everybody love you – get in where you fit in atomic farmhouse will never be your position – b-tch n-gga so don’t ask us can you get in
[verse 6: anti]
lah’ momma swallow all the pills so i know it’s real your friends can get it too – they don’t want it then it’s more for you don’t knock it until you try it die in your sleep – sweet dreams/ nothin’ should take your mind off money, like ted bundy i hate b-tches
[verse 7: lawson vladimir]
livin’ fast teenage girls turn to women very quickly they life fade like five minutes of fame million-dollar frames with twenty dollar pictures that sh-t doesn’t mix like a gold digger with a broke n-gga
[verse 8: anti]
i’m just another super villain with a plan to get a million terrorizing all civilians – atomic farmhouse k!ll everything except women and children so i suggest you protect your neck – cause there’s no life after death just ask biggie
[skit: mf doom]
from a musical aspect, hip-hop has went into a direction to where it’s..it’s like a hundred; or almost d-mn near a hundred percent of everything besides the music. like what you look like, the sound of your name to what your wearing. the brand of clothing, whatever intoxicants you choose to put in your body. everything except for what the music sounds like
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