
Obsolete The Orphanage
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Obsolete" от The Orphanage. Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Verse 1: Illogic]
Open a window and close the air vents
And if you're lucky than you'll miss the glass and crack your neck on the blacktop
Time mad foolery invaded rap stock
While I bury words in soil, reaping cash crop
You had a laughingstock and I'll lead you to the slaughter
An example of how to treat men if I ever have a daughter
Puff after puff, exhale after inhale
Rush after rush, re-up after next sale
And that's my life and at times I'm probably dreaming
'Cause this race is a figure-eight, no deviation from weaving
Webs are worse for heads with precision of arachnids
I'm a mattress, I'm stroking my pen just for practice
Night after night, spawns visit my bedroom
To confirm the fact that the roses would be dead soon
Surface intestinal fortitude with a red spoon
And damned to the evening as the moon is fed bloom
[Verse 2: Slug]
Yo the circle keeps me laughing loud
About how the clitoris within your disposition is projected outward
Got a crowd of mother figures, got a lot of love to give ya
As I sift through the under-nourished gift
Open a window and close the air vents
And if you're lucky than you'll miss the glass and crack your neck on the blacktop
Time mad foolery invaded rap stock
While I bury words in soil, reaping cash crop
You had a laughingstock and I'll lead you to the slaughter
An example of how to treat men if I ever have a daughter
Puff after puff, exhale after inhale
Rush after rush, re-up after next sale
And that's my life and at times I'm probably dreaming
'Cause this race is a figure-eight, no deviation from weaving
Webs are worse for heads with precision of arachnids
I'm a mattress, I'm stroking my pen just for practice
Night after night, spawns visit my bedroom
To confirm the fact that the roses would be dead soon
Surface intestinal fortitude with a red spoon
And damned to the evening as the moon is fed bloom
[Verse 2: Slug]
Yo the circle keeps me laughing loud
About how the clitoris within your disposition is projected outward
Got a crowd of mother figures, got a lot of love to give ya
As I sift through the under-nourished gift
Комментарии (0)
Минимальная длина комментария — 50 символов.