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ft ab soul bj the chicago kid vic mensa - holy holy (ft. ab-soul & bj the chicago kid) - vic mensa كلمات الأغنية

[intro: vic mensa]
cam, whattup bro?
rest in peace killa cam

[verse 1: vic mensa]
i been smokin’ that can’t you tell, i’m high as h-ll
hide my pain, but i hide it well, got me thinkin’ like galileo
posted with my homies, brosky rollin’ hoesies
hope this hoagie that we smokey help me faith again i’m lonely
lonely m-ssachusetts, on the road no rollies
wrote this song inside my notebook, told this tunchi think of tony
he was only 20, took one in the tummy
caught a bullet to the back, one by the hand of his own homie
holy jesus holy holy
holy jesus holy holy
holy jesus holy holy
holy jesus holy holy

[hook: vic mensa]
who can see the future? we may never know it
sweets and kama sutra, swishers swishers will you blow it?
who can see the future? we may never know it
sweets and kama sutra, swishers swishers will you blow it?
if the world ends tomorrow
if the world ends tomorrow, would you smoke with me?
if the world ends tomorrow
if the world ends tomorrow, would you smoke with me?

[verse 2: vic mensa]
call your grandma, go light this l, go post for bail
hate to spend your last night in jail
make a plan and try to make amends
and maybe take a stand and tell how you feel
sentimental recollection, revelation, resurrection, god, question
what would people think about if i died?
i wonder sometimes if this music i make would keep me alive
but what if my tape never dropped or my alb-m had flopped
or i stopped at a red light and a semi-truck ran into my ride
what would my obituary column be?
how would they color me in the media? wikipedia follow me
would you follow my failures of familiar family apologies?
like, sorry for your loss, like they the one that lost
well i’m watchin’ from the side like a six man
feelin’ like marlon wayans but without the white chicks man
i remember when they killed killa cam on stoney
got it tattooed on my wrist, in memory of my big homie

[hook]

[verse 3: ab-soul]
see these the type of records make me think about alori
it kills me inside we can’t hear her side of the story
i kept my metro pcs with all of our text messages
as evidence that i was thinking holy matrimony
holy moly was i incorrect, chain smokin’ cigarettes
my tears wrinkle but the irony is that i’m so depressed
ain’t no gettin’ over this, i just lost my everything
meanin’ that even me breathing now is inhumane
she live through me until i die, this what love sound like
i’m her baby boy, she my rib i’m always by her side
god, lend my my angel for a day or so
i pack up all my sins in every l i blow and let ’em go

[hook]

[outro: vic mensa]
make your bed, play for dead, kill your enemies
smoke them, get drunk, have a party
fall in love with you and wonder if you still remember me
or would you just fade away?
make your bed, play for dead, kill your enemies
smoke them, get drunk, have a party
fall in love with you and wonder if you still remember me
or would you just fade away?
make your bed, play for dead, kill your enemies
smoke them, get drunk, have a party
fall in love with you and wonder if you still remember me
or would you just fade away?

- ft ab soul bj the chicago kid vic mensa

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