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tier on3 - veiluminati lyrics
verse 1-
touch down in my city like an angel with no halo
replace me i think no, heaven sent with a h-ll of an ankle
stronger than achilles heel, tending to foes tendo
say you stacking to the ceiling when your bread’s in crumbs like panko
i’ve been on a covert mission to seek and destroy
anyone that’s adverse with a bleak sound don’t get your feet moist
step up in my shoes you’re in deep water with no voice
sacrifice your talent for watered down music out that bose
shout out futuristic for keeping phoenix real
shout out vee tha rula for keeping phoenix trill
shout out sincerely collins sincerely with the sk!ll
but i’m a k!ll you all to get that crown with a flaming appeal
this flow is bananas i came in raw like no peel
i reveal my life through these poems in hopes of a deal
play my cards right a black jack might walk in with a quill
telling me to rush to sign it like i’m in a fire drill
let the flow seep in like venom from the brown recluse
hear what i drew, cut my ear off like when girls refuse
to stop talking and do what they mouth was born to do
i’m just playing wit you baby, here’s some jesus juice
with a side of forbidden fruit paired with love produced
but what’s love when it’s a daily chase for your self truth
lying to ourselves about attractions to seduce
when all we need is a body with personality induced
hold up
anti-social plug n play in both your ears impaired
scared to share your thoughts pictures is what you’re learned to share
epistolize to the lost with hearts that need repair
try to reach the people but they disappear like air
we know when your c’s low, green dough came from selling weed bro
got a weak stomach you keeping vices hid far below
my complexion’s surface glowing up, but they don’t see though
pain embedded in my eyes put shades on for a disguised ego
rely on myself cuz i can’t trust homies with knives
hid behind their back as they smile hug and swing then strike
like vipers in my gr-ss buried in my mind
will i have to get a blade to reveal enemies behind
my wall of reality’s facade that’s solipsistic
infusing my seven chakras that makes tenebrific
thoughts in my dopamine strands deriving from the critics
ain’t gon’ lie it gets to me at least i have b-lls to admit it
modern hip-hop i swear to god it’s making me lose it
it’s dead ask the coroner i’m the bag to prove it
breaking out the cemetery like teenager fluids
i don’t make hip-hop b-tch i make music
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