lirik lagu stamina / health – sewerperson
[intro]
n.o.s on the beat, boy
[verse 1]
i understand that you ain’t my colour
but i’m on the purple, i know what can damage ya
she wear a loui v, she often is moody
i move like a pro, but i act like a amateur
know she a fan of me
[?] message ya
i [?] my back cuz i stress like a referee
i made a [?], now your coup is afraid of me
i keep my secrets, my knowledge is salary
i make it hourly, burn up my calories
i touch abroad and i’m gone like a athlete
truest state, state, state
truest state, state
i feel amazing
i’m over a hundred
i’m out of control
[?] stomach [?]
[?] i’m drinking hennessy [?]
[?] my house ain’t my own
who in the back, i can’t see in the dark
weed in the way as soon as i park
i need a doctor, i’m deep in the cut
no, i’m always right, almost stuck in the mud
sleet in the wheel, this sh-t out of luck
ice in the liquid, i’m shootin’ on pot
c’s on the buckle, i’m keeping it tuck
lightning in red and i’m driving as f-ck
[hook]
i might drink a little, i know i been sippin’ a little bit
show these [?]
i’m too tall, i’m too-
i need to think a little bit more
just the memories been [gone?]
there’s no waking up, i can fall asleep
i’m sorry, please just-
[transition]
listen
please just listen
to me
(please just)
please just listen to me
[verse 2]
not the one you think, it is
usually the opposite (usually the opposite)
[?] red ties
you just thinkin’ on that sh-t (you just thinkin’ on)
[?] by the 911
drove it out the dealer [?]
[?]
graduate the scholarship
focus on yourself and for [?] so you fearin’ it (yeeah)
if you tryna feel me, i don’t know you, i’m not hearin’ it
let me place your order, stash it like a h–rder
i was smoking always, see you think i was a former (think i was a former)
[?] i was smoking [?]
hit me with the “take these”, man i gotta break these
sh-t was too strong, i was too gone (gone)
hit me with the heat, feel like [?]
all these people fake, [?] took a race
layin’ in a [?], i wore em like [?]
[outro]
i just lay back, blow bags, where the hundred grams?
y’all boys, got me flyin’ through the ceiling fan
let me get loose, foot loose like a country fan
let me go again
let me run it back
let me blow a bag
countin’ hundred benz
and i’m lovin’ it
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