BILLY CASH ft. Bill Waves Lyrics

You see It's about time for me to not be so humble anymore

You can't contribute mother fucker to a game that your not a gift to

You never heard the truth like this, and my lineage is official

I got enough background for two, and my city tends to get brittle

In the winter my depression gets insidious, but it's pretty in mid June

Shoot

I don't know if I'll be forgiven again, and again for every sin I commit

The scent of Newport smoke holds a sentiment embedded deep in my system

On Penn Avenue get stripped of your innocence

I keep flexing my vision in a sense

I beat complex systems meant to see I'm lost in a psychiatric clinic, institution, or prison

So I'm instituting my gifts because I'm gifted

I've been involuted in painting vivid pictures of unfortunate misgivings

But I'm so fortunate, and I've never been confused about my privilege

Through an induced amount of chemicals, and a profuse amount of sickness

I hit the ground so hard, and bounced far above the illusion of a useless crown, and parts of your true story that don't fit into your cool image

Fuck it

It's starting to get disgusting dishing this hot chicken, summer to Christmas

Since For The Lost Children, I guess all my verses reflect my mental illness

Put you in a ditch or leave you livid

I remember having hot piss, and praying to Jesus that my PO was gone fishing

I always thought I could start a revolution, but people told me to be realistic bullshit

Now it's time to be realistic

There's never been verses as honest, words as prolific, turned to a sentence when statistics that said I'd make it past addiction were such a small percentage

This is spiritualistic not religious

I hear spirits in my head, I see spirits with special vision, my third eye is blinking

Try to tell us how your living, but we can see it written on your face

You can try but you can't hide what's inside without an outward presence

Frank Vitale gave me wisdom while I was washing dishes

Now I got a 100 Jerm instrumentals and zero competition

All the notes inside of my phone could fill at least ten compositions

While you look for accolades, I'm looking to ascertain the difference between God, and fake prophets with false claims that try to wrap my brain in

So I don't just pray I listen

This is Big Waves

I'll let The Universe put you in a grave and look away if you want to act like bitches

I need to not mask the pain on cloudy days getting ash on the window sill, after a long day of trying to find the next sentence to type rhymes flowing like rain through the gutter out of my intuition

Need a brain to have my type of women

I'd rather be broke than unoriginal, because you can't buy these kinds of riches