Bruhmanegod - ARE YA WINNIN' SON? Lyrics

Lyrics ARE YA WINNIN' SON? - Bruhmanegod



Are ya, are ya winnin'?
Oh, oh, oh
Guess the money make me happy, right?
Are ya winnin' son?
Ain't even alive, what you think?
Say I'm doin' the most I don't think I did enough
You got evil inside
Givin' it all to the ghost, a toast to gettin' up
Yeah, yeah
I think I heard you bitch enough
I'ma handle this neutrally
If I say we not friends please don't shoot at me
Fuck the hate I'm growin' beautifully
They don't wanna see it
They use the Internet so I keep 'em muted
Researching me like a student
If you listenin' you probably stupid
I swear to the Christian God
Try to refuse it, dm me a joke
Everything's gettin' hot
And I don't like humans
Leave me alone
Awful ugly how they want me
I no longer feel like fuckin' rhyming
I'll see yo' ass at the potluck
(It's next Thursday, if you late I swear to God)
I remember when I had a lot of love
Wastin' time bein' young, killin' ourselves
We older now, we still killin' ourselves
Tobacco out the bowl, fuck it, I'm crazy
Feel like an outsider, feel like an orphan
Just one of those days I wish I was aborted
I only get paid if you think I'm important
That shit sordid
Fuck it, force this course of torment
It's not a game, it's a tournament
You got it all, and you whorin' it
I feel like eno
I wanna rip out ya throat with my jaw
¿Tienes hambre, putana?
Go make a keynote on how I'm a dog
I'm bumpin' Kino
I'm at the lot and I'm dodgin' the sheriff
I bought my own pot so you know I ain't sharin'
Unless you my friend or unless you my parents
I'm fuckin' hot like the smoke in my larynx
I forgot that I gotta forget about carin'
I forget I go out on a walk and I scare 'em
All these artists just want what I'm not, it's apparent
I'ma fall to my knees and then grab the katana
I ain't ashamed of the way I was brought up
Feel like Since99 and NLE Choppa
I feel like Jasiah singin' the Opera
I feel like Yussuf feel like Hamza
You feel like smokin'? I don't wanna
Polite as fuck but I'm the wrong one
BruhMane, bruh, look what you gone done
I fuck with Houston that's my top city
Keep these spiders that I got with me
'Cause I know that they would not let me
(Do some bullshit right?)
Awful ugly how they want me
I no longer feel like fuckin' rhyming
I'll see yo' ass at the potluck
(You better bring food or you better not come at all)
I remember when I had a lot of love
Wastin' time bein' young, killin' ourselves
We older now, we still killin' ourselves



Writer(s): Bruhmanegod, Christopher Lindsey


Bruhmanegod - Beamy's Storage Box
Album Beamy's Storage Box
date of release
30-11-2020




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