paroles de chanson PTSD - City Morgue

Thraxx
Ayy, Holy War!

I wake up with hand on grip
Wake up with hoes on dick
Wake up with Remington
Wake up with no options

Lost all my work when the pot bust (Work)
Threw it out the window when the cops rush (Fuck outta here)
Pussy ass nigga, you is not us
And your fuckin' brain's getting mopped up, my guap up
Jumpin' on the jet, it ain't JetBlue (No no)
Niggas frontin' on the net, I'ma catch you (Fuck out of here)
I'ma pop a vessel, I'ma fuckin' deck you
38 special, curl up like a pretzel
Crash in the coupe, do the Crash Bandicoot (Skrrt)
I'ma crash in the coupe, do the Crash Bandicoot (Skrrt)
Clip on the Draco, tip on potato
Emoji halos, R.I.P. your baby

I wake up with hand on grip
Wake up with hoes on dick
I wake up with Remington
Wake up with no options

Ayy, blood all on the Glock, it make it hard for me to pop it
Jammin' on the spot, it make it hardfor me to cock it
Acid in the socket, make it hard for them to spot it
With a bitch, bullshit, Audemars flood wrist
Large clip, large stick, one in the cartridge
I'm Sargent, you cadet, now go get to marching
Sin City, sinner demeanor, one of the troops
General, war with it, I'll finish 100 proof
Mask on me, no ID
Put a air bubble in your boy I.V
Young Freddy, from your lucid dreams
Ain't no human gonna capture me

I wake up with hand on grip
Wake up with hoes on dick
I wake up with Remington
Wake up with no options

Hand on grip
Hoes on dick
Remington
No options