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novatore - all consuming كلمات أغنية

[intro]
to conduct my experiments in privacy away from a suspicious world you will now see how successful i work

[verse 1: novatore]
i’m steady rockin’ with the best of ’em
sever their necks and let the rats gnaw at the rest of ’em
i’m partly mexican but mostly white
i’ve done a lot of wrong in life but despite i feel i’ve done mostly right
i get in fights and do some coke and go to sleep at night
wake up depressed and go and eat and then repeat the night
got sick of bein’ weak, i used to live a vеgan life
and now i can’t say no to eatin’ evеry single pizza slice
’cause i’m a beast in life, consumin’ that and this
the data hits, the scale is tipped, and now i’m mad and p_ssed
street magician ask me how i’m like imagine this
you talkin’ sh_t, your t__th are disappearin’, that’s my magic trick
go eat a bag of d_cks, i’ll even feed you some
satan’s back, call the police because the beast has won
and any time i’m at the table’s when the feast begun
you battle me, you better play deceased and then proceed to run
chew up and swallow every rapper whole
hollow b_st_rds watch your back because i’ll sn_tch your soul
it’s masterful the way i set up and attack my goals
they try to crack the code, these copycats, they match and jack the flows
name a person better who’s as pale as this
i’m gluttonous, inhalin’ calories, exhalin’ hits
i’m gluttonous, inhalin’ calories, exhalin’ hits
[verse 2: daniel son]
talk to ’em real quick, man!
i flee and leave the michelin star
throw unlimited darts, thin line between risk and reward
cold shoulders, most frigid of hearts
sit in a loft, hit the canvas with the signature mark
off the graveyard, busy on the day shift
ran through ldrs, new kicks and a jays fit
fall from the bucket, spikin’ up, make the veins split
somewhere on the beach drinkin’ clicquots, south of spain trips
tryin’ to max a quota, sit in black toyotas
sunk the sh_t, pray the captain float up
oh lord! got that smell it through the bag aroma
nowadays we speak in morse codes, we be tappin’ shoulders
jack and cola, seen at the saloon bettin’
married to the game, shotgun wedding
grinder and a spliff got a hot lung stressin’
say nothin’ if the cops come checkin’
brown bag money!

- novatore

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