Is it me Cr7z (Ft. Ill P & Quato)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Is it me" by Cr7z (Ft. Ill P & Quato). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Songtext zu „Is it me“ ft. Ill P & Quato]
[Part 1: Ill P]
Holding a gun to my head every night before rest
Russian roulette with [?] pages blank and [?]
Started when I'm steppin' the devils' pencil in straight rap [?] remarks my intelligence
I climbed Mount Everest built by no therapist
The razor type terrorist assassinate clever shit
Lyrical volcano, I'm buried beneath the surface
Only I'm flowing on an island where creeds got purpose
Medicate with the doctors when I'm trying to get lost
And I twisted every inch and ligament, evil's [?]
I three-sixty in a snow storm, frosty into a devils script better than your intelligence
[?], better and elegance, been fucked up got no feeled pressure
I puff-puff, notes ruffed up, step cleaner
Get your gut shucked, pure hatred in my veins
Pure matrix in my brain, unplugged from [?]
[Sheron Shanes] with a plate
Flee the front and center, check it twenty four seven
To havin' shoot your preference and everything else irrelevant
Shocked out an eleven and hot [?] and seven
Doubt the ounce of a veteran and found drowning on Everest
[Bridge: Scratches]
Motherfucker
[Part 1: Ill P]
Holding a gun to my head every night before rest
Russian roulette with [?] pages blank and [?]
Started when I'm steppin' the devils' pencil in straight rap [?] remarks my intelligence
I climbed Mount Everest built by no therapist
The razor type terrorist assassinate clever shit
Lyrical volcano, I'm buried beneath the surface
Only I'm flowing on an island where creeds got purpose
Medicate with the doctors when I'm trying to get lost
And I twisted every inch and ligament, evil's [?]
I three-sixty in a snow storm, frosty into a devils script better than your intelligence
[?], better and elegance, been fucked up got no feeled pressure
I puff-puff, notes ruffed up, step cleaner
Get your gut shucked, pure hatred in my veins
Pure matrix in my brain, unplugged from [?]
[Sheron Shanes] with a plate
Flee the front and center, check it twenty four seven
To havin' shoot your preference and everything else irrelevant
Shocked out an eleven and hot [?] and seven
Doubt the ounce of a veteran and found drowning on Everest
[Bridge: Scratches]
Motherfucker
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