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lirik lagu winter mic – torné

[intro]

straight out of the ouija board
it’s torné, murdering the microphone
it’s 2017
and i still don’t know what the f-ck life means
you got to listen to me
f-ck that was old

[verse 1]

the style’s tremendous, n-gg-, it’s venomous
i laugh at you in general, f-cking tarantulas
i’m the pesticide, call me baygon, you say “why, torn?”
n-gg-, july gone and i still chill in my home
thai food and some of my c-ke, getting high is the only goal
my standards are low, no company, lone, prepare for my mourn
the coffin is calling, i’ll be dead before they catch me
compet-tion ain’t an issue, so alone, them n-gg-s can’t even try to match me
liquored up in a rainy night
the mood be like, staying up till the next daily light
n-gg-, slightly blind, too much computer in the dark
much to write, even more to spit, but i won’t talk
i mostly rap to deal with grief by myself
ain’t no shoulder i can rest on to cease what i feel in my chest
it would be nice to have friends
it would be long before i come to my senses, f-ck, my life is a mess

[refrain]

…got the revolver in my hand and the sh-t is triggering
got you n-gg-s impressed but you ain’t listening
got the revolver in my hand and the sh-t is triggering

[verse 2]

and then: boom! my head splatter, floor soaking with brain matter
with an inverted pentagram pattern
waking up in h-ll, satan says to me:
“i sent you to earth to open a portal, stop this foolery”
i get sent back to my domains
eternal rain, going insane, my mind in a haze
“are you high?” na “then why are you eyes red?”
i haven’t blinked since i found out that i can’t drop dead
grab the switch blade, stab the b-tch mane
state of decay, made my will break
morning of mourning? n-body heard that sh-t
dawn of misery? what the f-ck is that sh-t?
poor men, sp-wning in torné’s appartment
torn ’em, i have fallen, twelve hours since dawn and
them n-gg-s be saying that i should be sent in my way
but no reign was ever built in a day, listen
i’m here on a rhyme overdosis
and memories from parallel universes
got stories that no other man can tell
but i better stop before i send them wack -ss rappers to h-ll, motherf-cker

[verse 3]

and i still be walking in the void with an oil lantern
turbulence in delivery, bury me torned up
the nasty extraordinaire bronco
slash a motherf-cker with a mortal kombat combo
scorpion motherf-cker, get over here!
sending you to the future in a comma for seven years
just a thought in the winter night
autumn gone, along with the already dim lights
now the lights dimmer, i don’t know where to go
alone in a journey to freeze up the microphone

so i can blaze it up, again and again

it’s the winter mic

- torne

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