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kig v2 - sure lyrics
no life…(are you awake…?)
dammit, i said no life!
[verse 1]
straight, outta, upper-middle cl-ss white neighborhood
ain’t finna bang in this kinda hood
people cross the zates claiming, oh, what i mighta did
lighter end my prerogative, maiming whatever face that so daunted him
selling sh-t to some crazy chick from internet
describe as girlfriend, technically ain’t win her yet
sure
like it ain’t written in the heavens
bit my sixes and sevens, b-tch, i get what i want
why these other girls front? sure, like you ain’t shalmoota
and i ain’t some basket-case that hears that b-ss and goes ruger
that establishment just wish you dead, and i’m just racing ‘em to ya
blast’em like laxatives, my words ripping right through
think ffak is joke, m.e.f. ain’t a set?
then go head and benzo your eight o proof, and be less f-cking dead
i’m on a hustle to amaze, oh you think that’s debatable?
well, we like to call that rustle in the shadows, “un-f-cking-mistakable,”
[chorus]
ya’all b-tches ain’t grind
yo, you ain’t on a grind
ya’all soul ain’t divine
no…you on some bullsh-t, though
no, ya’all, b-tches ain’t grind
yo, you ain’t of this motherf-cking design
i’m tired of pacing around for these stars to align
but you wait, like, you on some bullsh-t
[verse 2]
a noose the only exit from my tool shed
never learned how to cool it, truest when i do sh-t
gotta new vest, detonate, enemies evaporate, i live miraculously
ain’t no rations on this plate, baby
put my potential in the fire, now it’s hatching for me
can’t poke my way all way to trophy, let’s see what slashing achieve
code 8-0-8 from those below who don’t believe you need take action for peace
wipe ‘way the data, shout triple-acting, but stains on soul, manifesting…
[verse 3]
straight, outta, yuppie-bracket-washed district
bumping vinnie, curry, earl, haze’s night ballads in when the broad day lit
i’m on some too-d-mn-great sh-t
so don’t even bother with dog, but beware humiliation
i’ll turn your sneering faces to sobs, maybe lumpy applesauce
i’ll f-cking f-ck up your job, but won’t fix these runts on a cross
nullity watching you dab, b-tch, you’ll disappear, as if magic
felony’s worth, bars and cabbage, revere the bars that went savage
[outro chorus]
sincerely from a sickness that facilitates lasting, right?
you, know you ain’t on a grind
ya’all, soul ain’t divine
no…you on some bullsh-t, though
no, ya’all, b-tches ain’t grind
yo, you ain’t getting no motherf-cking replies
i’m sick of sticking to the wishes of these pigs in the grime
they tryin’ pork-mug, they stuntin’ bullsh-t
they tryin’ ca-joles, they tryin’ fool sh-t
think they’ll make home, i’m callin’ bullsh-t
they think they meso, while going way slow
priorities flipped, when p-ss through g.i.k.’s estate though
graves nodded in the late polls
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