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lirik lagu cbt ocd – donchristian

angels all around me
if i’m a well, they a fountain
and i’ma drown in ’em
i been drinking spring water
top of any mountain
any type of land i abound in
can’t move a n*gga if he founded
i was all fire had to ground it
puff puff wolf
i’m a house, b*tch
you could put me out if you ‘bout it
n*ggas only want you for your mouth, kid
good thing i gave a mean crit
them malcolm glasses don’t mean sh*t
if your tongue too quick for this busted lip
i wrote the forward no cliff note
no mirror, no smoke
when i speak i clear my throat
they asking for the antedote
it’s “acceptance” bro, i don’t know
still clairvoyant though
i’m talkin’ bout sh*t you ain’t heard about
dmt baby i ain’t worried bout ya
cbt ocd what’s poppin?
used to meet up on the ave just to pop sh*t
only thing in view was that opp sh*t
i’ll get your ass together likе your mom did
i don’t care about school, just be honest
livе a life, look back and be fond of it
did you show up for your friends? was you kind, n*gga?
was it really bout that benz or that honda?
or was it something underneath, like behind it?
if you ain’t got no fuel how you driving?
that’s what they asked me over time
and i ain’t really know for a while
but yo, i woke up, so i’ma wild’ out
[chorus]
f*ck

[verse 2]

f*ck i love a country that ain’t never love me
see my n*ggas dyin’ every summer
yeah i left the city just to make my motha comfortable
lucky that i did, it make me hungrier
you n*gga’s intuition it ain’t really trustable
unless you got a grip, i can’t really f*ck witchu
i’m talkin’ smith & wesson if you really bustable
b*tch, we from uptown, ain’t no huxtable
i’m talkin’ wayne ave, oak lane
top down, mustang, high school, same thing
prom king, old head, still flamin’
bedstuy? it get hot when i walk by
i’m the big bad wolf, you ain’t dealin wit no puppy
i’ma buss any wall if you ain’t reinforce ya structure
i be beamin’, i8 in cream, so sweet i’m mean
for the team they be fienin’
i be in all my ex’s dreams
hit ya n*gga up when you can’t sleep, not me
i got a sixth sense like blues clues
f*ck around, dues i paid those
whatchu thought? b*tch, we made hoes
chynna done said it “them b*tches ain’t want it ’til they saw us in it”
bless up the kid

- donchristian

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