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van buren records – war mode كلمات اغاني

[verse 1: saint lyor]
i done f_cked up my liver, oh sh_t
got the burner inside of my hood
the bag keep growing its legs
i’ma chop it down like i’m a cook
i don’t f_ck with these n_ggas at all
i’ma put em inside of a ‘wood
i’m a rebel moving without cause
i don’t care about cost or the price
one mistake and we takin’ his life
after that, then we f_ckin’ his wife
i been grippin’ and huggin’ the curb
i been saving up for a new life
’cause this sh_t, it sucks, it’s f_cking me up
my lungs is dust, i’m poor as f_ck
my belly keep talkin’, it’s waking me up
i gotta get mine, it’s the first of the month
it’s me versus me, so we runnin’ it up
poor as f_ck, you poor thing
i don’t give a f_ck what these wh0res think
i’m a feminist, n_ggas ain’t payin’ for sh_t
i went in the club and they playin’ my d_ck
you know most of these n_ggas, they give me the ick
so that’s why i gotta go stay with my stick
my stick, my stick, my brand new stick
i f_ck with her tough, so i bought her some tits
i went to lagos and copped me a crib
i’m in the industry, it’s full of pigs
when i k!ll ’em all off, i’ma k!ll ’em again
one, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero
i knew i was god even when i was one_years_old
[chorus: saint lyor]
(poor thing)
please don’t make me go war mode
please don’t make me go war mode, war mode
(poor thing)
please don’t make me go war mode
please don’t make me go war mode, war mode
(poor thing)
please don’t make me go war mode
please don’t make me go war mode, war mode
(poor thing)
please don’t make me go war mode
please don’t make me go war mode, war mode

[verse 2: jiles]
hunger pains, i check the fridge, there’s nothing in it
aunty slid me twenty, said hide it before your mama spend it
rent_a_center knockin’ at the door ’cause the couch was rented
store run, cop a cam, my pops running outta minutes
gap tooth, runnin’ through the east like lebron in cleveland
h_lla deep with guns inside the venue, feel like gilbert arenas
shorty pushing b_ttons inside the foreign like there goes the ceiling
jugg taking long to come outside, got an uneasy feeling
gang here
brodie on the wings serving chicken like it’s popeyes
this get back sh_t is like a sport, we doing high_fives
broski was the shooter and the driver in that drive_by
back then when n_ggas yelled chirp, you wasn’t outside
i860 on my hip, n_ggas couldn’t tell me nothin’
back then, it was one_on_ones before we had a gun
flip this and flip that
give thanks and give back
my gift of gab got gift wrapped
that stove sound, that tick_tick
n_ggas talking they big sh_t
bragging ’bout what we been did
won’t never fold, ain’t no bending
new deal still pending
my skin glowing, got my pennet
we running n_ggas for they tennis
i own the sh_t, i ain’t no tenet
tedd boyd, he a chemist (yeah)
[chorus: saint lyor]
please don’t make me go war mode
please don’t make me go war mode, war mode
(poor thing)
please don’t make me go war mode
please don’t make me go war mode, war mode
(poor thing)
please don’t make me go war mode
please don’t make me go war mode, war mode
(poor thing)
please don’t make me go war mode
please don’t make me go war mode, war mode

[verse 3: saint lyor]
like, dog, pay attention, i mean what’s really at stake?
if numbers is premeditated, who deserve to be great?
i always knew sh_t was fake
but when you in the inside, there’s a decision to be made
you could ignore all the bullsh_t or look it in its face
but i’d rather go on cheap dates
every day, i’m picking another b_tch’s brain
twenty_three summers and i still ain’t go insane
a terrible diet, survivin’ off minimum wage
i’m from the 508, my face made the front page
every link_up is like worship and praise
my brother bring the drums and the sticks every day
every, every, every, every day
every, every, every, every day
my brother bring drums and the sticks every day
[verse 4: felix]
been through some things and to this day, can’t feel my face
stuck in my ways, i’il break a face, man, could you face it?
darker days of sweeter pain, the tints painted
what could i say? just love the taste of confrontation
maybe it’s the way that half these n_ggas pump fakin’
maybe it’s the rage up in me, need a place to place it
i lived twenty_something odd years frustrated
forty bad hoes in one room, get in formation
the heartbreaking and the sh_t i did left mom in awe
your happy home was somewhat tainted by a troubled son
before any glimpse of consciousness, was fighting out the womb
told me that they kicked me out the daycare every month
war mode
ko when i rush you, it get ugly
it’s war mode
where i’m from, they’ll chop you for a onion
it’s war mode
okay, l’il stop before sh_t get redundant

- van buren records

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