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lirik lagu sister1.wav (unfinished) – 1xfighter

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[verse]
that’s it, i’m f*ckin finished with this sh*t named “rap”
everybody sit down, go ahead, finish your snacks
i don’t wanna hear any noises, so b*tches, turn off the tap
y’all f*ckin’ boys and girls with lies stickier than sap
i’m changin’ this f*ckin’ subject and you ain’t changin’ into aa
you’ve met a fat white kid before, but you ain’t met an ak
bullets follow you throughout the halls either which way*way
if you go up that ladder, let it be known you’ll be yelling “mayday”
i hate that i’m soliciting, but i’m not f*cking leaving
i’ll always be listening and stop when i stop hearing screaming
remember me, b*tch?
you and your whole clique
i’ve been watchin’ you since, and i ain’t seein’ improvemеnts
you want to rip my heart out just for your amus*m*nt
how ’bout instеad, you cut my d*ck off and rub nuts on my bruises
it’s kinda stupid how assh0l*s can die in nice ways
if he’d kept his f*ckin’ mouth shut, he’d still be alive today
embarrass me, make my face red like summer’s bright days
so you can get a gun rubbed on your lips and call it “foreplay”
i hate the f*ckin’ way
you get away
with what you say
nada, no pay
since you s*xually assault, i’d call homicide okay
you offend everything that gets in front of your face
it’s always s*x or whites, the crackers make too many mistakes
still, you sit at home and ask my little sis’ for a taste
like you ain’t already tried it, say that sh*t to my face
having pessimism and anxiety hit my phone
doesn’t give me anything in life except for the stone*
engraved message in my head that i should get mushed by chrome
it makes me feel like sh*t, but it’s a message i own
am i racist and h0m*phobic?
i’m phobic to y’all, you know it
hurts to say when the directed crowd got it and then broke it
so, the fire, you stoke it
h*ll, you go stick*and*poke it
and go make it feel worthless like this stupid mo’f*ckin’ poet
i’m homicidal, so would it matter if i go and run out of time
and sh*t, get it given right back? i’ll always say that i’m fine
when in reality, i’m stuck inside the cells of my mind
i’ve got no powerhouse, and really, my own mind isn’t mine
yet, i’ll stray away from any place that i feel comfortable inside
we have a date of death, to say we don’t is called a f*cking lie
i’d rather be alone than have a therapist who’s never right
and i’ve messed up so many times, the number’s got roof f*ckin’ high

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