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they say hell is what you make it - chris king lyrics

[intro]
how could i trust you?
(d*mn, pocket)

[chorus]
it’s still f*ck the world with no contraceptive, c*ck the weapon
they say h*ll is what you make it, i guess i’m tryna find my heaven
since i was seven, if they commit a crime, you don’t call 911
you leave that business all in the street, i’m tryna find my blessing
i could best at least a hundred cents and i didn’t cry for nothin’
pull up in that b*tch, didn’t have no key, i can’t rely on no one
foolish motherf*cker, silly me, i thought that i could trust you
a couper truck, i swerve with these, okay, now i’m reloaded

[verse]
somebody gotta blame thе bad guy, feel like razor ramon
just sent an apple pay to my dog, hе in jail with a phone
he said he wanna lose his mind, i told him wait ’til he home
he poppin’ bottles up in high then f*ckin’ hoes in great stone
the doors open up, suicide, the door handles was chrome
and the rolls inside while i glide, was a b*tch you could barely control
she could fool you with her eyes, thick thighs, stare in your soul
i’m neither moved nor surprised she obliged with givin’ me throat
yeah, headshot, look like i broke a gallon of sand grit
man shot, smoke him, the bullet loud, i still can’t hear
legs locked, he tried to run from it, now he ain’t here
numb to all them k!llers, we don’t think that yellow tape weird
kick me while i’m down and i regain my balance
we know that i could rap, we all got that established
i dip and dabble in different b*tches, you n*ggas hustle backwards
you tryna rap ’til you got dentures, i’m tryna chill relaxed, then
if i’m on my high horse, that b*tch is meg thee stallion
keep cartridges like n64, fly as captain falcon
yeah, you could view the whole city from this penthouse balcony
i make it hard for the next like what’s gon’ come after me?
panoramic doors, we was down so we had to score
they tried to shelve the spot so it’s heated countertops and marble floors
name ring bells in the streets, i never heard of yours
whip balenciaga just to sleep and wake up to dior
[chorus]
it’s still f*ck the world with no contraceptive, c*ck the weapon
they say h*ll is what you make it, i guess i’m tryna find my heaven
since i was seven, if they commit a crime, you don’t call 911
you leave that business all in the street, i’m tryna find my blessing
i could best at least a hundred cents and i didn’t cry for nothin’
pull up in that b*tch, didn’t have no key, i can’t rely on no one
foolish motherf*cker, silly me, i thought that i could trust you
a couper truck, i swerve with these, okay, now i’m reloaded

[outro]
how could i trust you?
(d*mn, pocket)

- chris king lyrics

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