Songtexte Heavens Kitchen - Casino Costa

You told me that you love me
But I know you really don't
You said we were together
Yet I still feel so alone
Every time I tried trust you
You just left me in the cold
That's why when you say you love me
I be hanging up the phone
Broken soul of a passionate man
I built this home see the scares on hands
Self made nigga
Jesus was a carpenter
Self made nigga
Jesus carpenter

Since back in the day
I been hustling everyday
Never forgave
All those favours never repaid
Got too much to ever complain
Stuck in the rain hiding my pain oo oo oo
My heart is broken I don't tell nobody
All alone so it's me verses everybody
Body every verse I probably never get a penny out it
That don't matter to me
Rage in my heart like when Adam seen Eve eat the apple to seed
Immaculate greed got me wrapping the trees like Paul's Porsche
Of course I'm off course
Self destructive
Two levels above fuck this
Nigga you can't tell me what trust is
Beautiful fiction caught in addiction off the prescription
Walk with an awkwardly limpin
It's the product of pimping that been in my blood
My father got 26 kids but no love
I guess I got some issues don't
I stone cold killer see the look in both eyes nigga
Heaven's kitchen

You told me that you love me
But I know you really don't
You said we were together
Yet I still feel so alone
Every time I tried trust you
You just left me in the cold
That's why when you say you love me
I be hanging up the phone
Broken soul of a passionate man
I built this home see the scares on hands
Self made nigga
Jesus was a carpenter
Self made nigga
Jesus carpenter

Dodging death my whole life left Jamaica for the cold life
Eyes open for the po lights
A killer that's still polite
Gorilla and a gentleman
Every verse is a EpiPen filled with adrenaline
Hell I been and back against the wall
They set me up to fail I never fall
Renegade in a rental car
Drive by spraying the extra large
More fire ain't no fet involved
Bullets paint your body like you jumping in a festival
Bacchanal
I have a heart but it's kind of small
And blacker than bike tires are
Costa terrible
Kill for the revenue
Put the reverend to work make'em bury you
Paranoid only a very few ever know
What I do where I go