Evil Strings, Pure Heart Lyrics

I'm just gonna practise this shit…

Hand to hand, in the dirt

Pop a xan, flipping work

Talking last, shooting first

Make your case, don't get hurt

This berserk, this the real

This that shit, you should feel

If you were scumming for a meal

While fiending for Electric Feels

The tech concealed, in Nike Techs

The grabba smoke, my frozen breath

I never sold my soul for cheques, I just sold that dope instead

Then I hit the books and read and learned how I can duck the feds

An artist, yes

Stack my bread, sold out shows, pon they heads

Funny guy my honeys fly the truth is rly said in jest

Rly tryna live in peace, Supreme my fleece my Ksubi jeans

My bitch is bad, my brothers eat

Run yo stage we run yo screens my bloods and cros they run da skreetz

It's Rayhan I'm the Zooted G

I went to hell and told the devil get some new decor

Muslim in that Christian Dior

Best you leave your soul at the door

But she scream Gimmie more

Ay ay

Think I'm 96 Rodman how I ball boy

Feel like 97 Wayne I'm a hot boy

I was born in 98 on the block boy

Got a big blue face but I'm brown boy

Ain't a joke ting, get to know me

Where my shooterrrrrrrrs, where my dope fiends

Still a blue jayyyyyyyy on the fitted cap

It's an old waveeeeeeeeeee but I'll bring it bacaack

And the spliff dirty but the sprite even filthier

Keep going east and it's only getting chillier

Big body whips with the black leather interiors

Gangstas at my crib playing GameCube I'm curious

How they move in silence how the game so luxurious

I was rocking shaqs tryna skate I'm confused as shit

Put it in my bars and I haven't been better since

Smoking on the hardest pack

Tryna get a heart attack

Tryna get my heart in tact