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lirik lagu superstition – percy keith

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sometimes i see sh*t, ya heard me?
that creole bloodline. you know?
i can’t do nothin’ ’bout it, ya heard me?
sometimes it’s just a feelin’, sometimes it’s in my sleep

who wit’ me? who against me? i can’t see the difference
i can see the distance. premonitions. i see n*ggas missin’
beaucoup dead bodies in bad conditions, lackin’ morticians
pray to god, then ask for forgiveness after i whack the witness
free my dog brian doin’ fed for pushin’ megan griffin
still hip hop like a leg is missin’ and steady trippin’
keep my b*tch from trippin’, give her head until her head is missin’
hard head, make her soft ass, my b*tch don’t need to listen

k!lla keise, kamikaze. ain’t no dramatizin’
doctor in that p*ssy, like dolittle, it say cum inside me
i can make that p*ssy grow two legs and feet, then run behind me
f*ck that p*ssy till it’s walkin’ dead, it’s become a zombie
f*ck twelve and five*oh, i’m waldo, come and find me
smokin’ weed till i forget i bleed, please, don’t remind me
came to k!ll a giant. i came alone, slangin’ stones
’bout to k!ll ’em all. a feast for crows. game of thrones
eatin’ p*ssy, no booty l!ckin’. that’s superstitious
chillin’, sippin’ dirty sprite 5, that’s futuristic
chillin’ with two b*tches, you can visit under two conditions
come with new prescriptions. no bobby brown, that’s new edition
who wit’ me? who against me? i can’t see the difference
i can see the distance. premonitions. i see n*ggas missin’
beaucoup dead bodies in bad conditions, lackin’ morticians
pray to god, then ask for forgiveness after i whack the witness
free my dog brian doin’ fed for pushin’ megan griffin
still hip hop like a leg is missin’ and steady trippin’
keep my b*tch from trippin’, give her head until her head is missin’
hard head, make her soft ass, my b*tch don’t need to listen

i’m sideways, ’bout to pull up parallel
perplexed and paralyzed, my eyes spinnin’ like a carousel
stories part three, a horror story, i don’t care to tell
that b*tch consist of mamas dyin’, half of jail and half o’ h*ll
bury me with lsd and weed, so i can laugh in h*ll
and an all red suit, ’cause h*ll is flames and i’m gon’ match it well
still got that white girl, so white i call her abigail
that mean her crack is pale, boy and girl, n*gga. jack and jill
lotta n*ggas p*ssy, yeast infection, need some vagisil
they gun fight ‘fore they fist fight, ’cause they too scared ‘fore to crack a nail
least they keep some real n*ggas wit’ ’em, my b*tch can say the same
keep it real and i’m a stay the same, but you can’t say the same

who wit’ me? who against me? i can’t see the difference
i can see the distance. premonitions. now these n*ggas trippin’

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