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billy woods - damage lyrics
billy woods – “damage”
[emcee(s): billy woods]
[producer(s): dj marmaduke]
[verse 1: billy woods]
i rock somewhere between jay-z and charles s. dutton
no more motherf-cker jobless shucking
pushing that mutually -ssured destruction b-tton
lights out, world. guinness stout hurled
intergalactus mount, prepare for rolling blackouts
black backwoodz rolling on back routes
no doubt. put the mic down, get your
gats out, lick a round for this champion sound
gutter mouth, speaker face, subwoofer
under the ribcage, enter the valley with
the light brigade, clutching rusty razorblades
gillette phrase giving out close shaves
like unlv games. i take great
pains not to sound like you lames, not to
sound like you lames
[verse 2: billy woods]
i see dead people, photo alb-ms of yearbook
pages, rusting, gilded cages oxymo-
-ronic like slave wages. pressure build ‘til it
cracks gauges, swallow pride, mouthfuls
of razors and catch the vapors, burning bare
foot in jamaica to dodging lasers in the land of
skyscr-pers, old-school payphones and pagers
drunk, bucking out blazers, hit
bystanders and keep stepping like drum majors
that’s gangster, huh? woods collapse
stages. [?] pulling favors, that’s
gangster, huh? or so you think
the world is roller rink—skate ‘til that
gate clink. some of these lady cops could get a wink
but they better not blink. somewhere from
dissing nsync to gangster ink, too much
alizé in that drink. that’s some tv sh-t
‘cause, in the hood, same n-gg-s that empty clips
in wheelchairs, saying if they had one wish…
but the damage is done
[verse 3: billy woods]
careful like operation, shock therapy patient
grow room, be patient, spit
vacation, inhale medication, a blue
blood relation, paradox when he bled
thoroughbred, thorough dreads, higher heights
known for getting nights rolling like dice, holding
top flight, duty-free thc ener-
-gy. rpg, who the enemy?
sober off the hennessey, sweating bullets
in tennessee, guerilla my pedigree
all i need is ten of me—that’s self-
-therapy like hamas on my couch
why are guided missiles headed for the house? i got
a claymore mount, shrapnel grill shine like
players down south. don’t let me find
your whereabout, put your body’s parts there-
-abouts. now you’re quiet as a church mouse
sunday service baptized with verses
more water, water than a go-go. you nervous
this style cursive, coercive like
police chokehold, accidentally on purpose
accidentally on purpose
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