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jimmy luna - oxymoon lyrics
[verse 1: jimmy luna]
ya boy back and he finally dropped one, like my surname was probably god’s son
y’all probably gos-sipped and chatted ’bout how luna ain’t got none
when it come to bars, y’all must’ve for-got-ten (some ws?) got tons of those
sip the soup, man i got puns like big askin’ n-ggas “who got buns?”
i verbally got guns honey, zero hyperboles, not dumb
but the vermin leads to cats with the caught tongues (you lyin’?)
i’m not one to lose the honesty just to accomplish things
but then i understand the sh-t is foreign to the amish peeps
they should be payin’ homage (sheesh) all those bl-w j-bs and still no green?
the whitey must be stingy, or he’s scared to come out closets b (hahaha)
minimum wage missin’ the j dot l, ironic i don’t hit neither eve-n when raged
call h-ll if humans are right ‘cuz i might belong in a cage
but if adam didn’t engage at a 90 degree ang-le with the bats, then the snake
would’ve made the bible a fable.. but then again cain couldn’t k!ll abel
e-s-p if it’s april ‘cuz fools die n’ the summer, didn’t mean to take it and wonder off with it
i just got tangled in the thought i could own it, but hok-m’s s’pose to finagle
its way inside of your lane bro, know it ain’t gon’ be lame
yo boy got a clear vision now, see da’ hoes call em’ bagels
use to call me a square but.. now the circle’s their main goal, i hate hoes
[bridge: jimmy luna]
i’m on.. my way.. to fame
and i plan to keep it that way (that way)
would’ve loved if you had stayed, but now soon i’m gettin’ paid
mental bruisin’ you had laid..
[verse 2]
left wit’cha b-tch -ss.. cut em’ off n-gga quick-fast, n-ggas couldn’t get p-ss jokes
so i guess a n-gga sin bad.. hope the sh-t that i spit last.. ricky’s dad gets glad
ephemeral when the sh-ts trash.. i get feral when the t-ts smash together
like to eat s’more pop tarts when it’s cold weather, hate it when i make a p-ssword
they need one letter to be mothaf-ckin’ capitalized.. (word to capital’s eye)
trees help the pineal gland, i rather disguise the high with meditation, felt a couple of guys waitin’
to roast a n-gga’s demise, my n-gga the skies the limit.. one of the lies that they told us to keep us from livin’
they keepin’ us timid from.. tryin’ to arise from the premise..
don’t be dethroned by these systems of control, cross ya fingers, keep them locks up off ya soul.. uh
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