lirik lagu lost soul – yamatto
check
these pockets on, anorexic
far from stretching my limits
just keep procrastinating
my vision got clearer
the vapors in my mirror fading away
so is my shade, blank, stayed inside like its winter break
winners break, losers get broken, now the sinner controls the brakes
keep on going even though if we destroy the gates
crooked or straight often lead to similair ways
the littlest change, or quick decisions be the one too -ssemble ya grave
i go cray when my crayons gone
im still a kid in a major form
unbreakable
anything you say, it dont answer my form or any formula
my soul purer then a bit of dust, post from bermuda
smoke on this hooka, word to soul that you gon see the future
im still a kit box in the wrong type of computer
still full of nothing
i’m nothing but a lost soul hovering over a th-rn globe
a sinner was born broke
subliminal war sparks
been sent through these car stereos
lit up the wrong bulb
give me a small sword
too sort out the lil insufficient
the stereotypical indicident of k!lling ya favourite rapper
remains unfinished
sight aside, a sci fi ride too heaven
im not alive
the psychedelic aftermath of frankenstein
rest inside
still eternal in my inner section
resist my blessings, me and myself all night
meditatin with medication aside, say
bla zay bla, papa, dont cry when you look straight down
too see me falling where you wouldn’t climb up
my penmanship rusted, crushed upon dozens of drugs bubblin
stomach be rumbling like a tussle or thunder strike
might be a gun again
subtly trapped inside off a sudden streak of uncertainty
now don’t you worry g
often drink gin to free these cuffs
never fumbling, humble and rich in spirit
if it’s measured by the size of my western wisdom
which exists out of punishment
f-cking mumbling utter rubbish sons off punished men
enough of this sh-t, i should shut a rapper run it up through the marrow and then i dip, collect rewards
sl!cky ricky rip the benefits
slitted up from the chin down to toes
eyes closed, dont show em any remorse
a marylin roe p-rno rolling in the back, she bad tho
while the bathsalt happens too resolve
tell em it’s over, no wrist colder then my motives for roaming a little game
pick a name, st-tch it right up in ya face
pick a lane
pick a page
pin a base
but never pity the pain while praising material gains, don’t cash out
keep cash up
or get slumped, skeet
in mist off repercussions it seems
enemies bleed
the season is frizzy, eleviate my grief
never resistant, in fact
i push my sinister tracks, untill they finished
fill em with a bit of smack, scrimmage
swing it, suspended, ain’t nothing perfectly packed
ask ya dealer
tell em bag up four grams
only show up with half
then we kick it
twist it up until my hand start iching
after i stacked a couple prescription pills, up in my liver
ain’t nothing clearer
seen premonitions but i chose too ignore
restore my ignorance, relax and get low
im nothing but a lost soul hovering over a torn globe
a sinner, was born broke
subliminal war sparks
been sent through these car stereos
lit up the wrong bulb
gimme a small sword too sort out the lil’ insufficient
the stereotypical incident off k!lling ya favourite rapper
remains unfinished
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