Another Spooky Beat Lyrics

Yuh

Maybe I just wanna

Get some shit off my chest

Maybe I just wanna try to feel something

Not so

Not so angry man like

Like who even fuckin knows

Shit

(Why are you so angry)

Uhh

From the pain that the grief could swallow

Couldn't breathe

Cause my brain couldn't leak till my top broke

Freak type of macho

Scream with my eyes closed

Demons in my hands

For the sake of that snot nose

But this that mild boys anthem

Was feeling sick and now I'm pissing out a tantrum

Scandalous with the hands rightfully

Right hand boutta act spitefully

Watch the time piece

Tick tick

Still it never seem to grip

These gorillas on my limp dick

Little do they know a fucking big fish

When they meet one

Get my fix with my kingpins

Hit a lick then I'm off to the brink

Cuff my nuts cause they taught me to sing

But he flaunt getting lost in the green

Off white in your ears disagree

In your brain with the seeds

Shouldn't take it from me

Game is baked for a week straight

Only peep game when he need cake

Family tree boutta meet fate

For the rest Ima need mace

That's my free therapy he a cheapskate

That's my free therapy plus a three way

Shit maybe not yet but a motherfucker praying

I bring this bitch to her knees so please stop playing

Uh

Yuh

Maybe I just wanna

Get some shit off my chest

Maybe I just wanna try to feel something

Not so

Not so angry man like

Like who even fuckin knows

Shit

(Why are you so angry)

Uh

Reach to the back of my throat for the conscience

Grease in the back of her throat from a godsend

Freeze in the bag now I pray I can stop it

Modest

Brakes in your teeth not my problem

We moshing to Gotham

Crooks with the posse

I'm batman and robin

You can't feel the top when the top off the noggin

Shot after shot turn the game to a prophet

Brain into wallet

She taste on my cockpit

Gridlock pitstops

Freedom into knowledge

Beat the beat

Till the people feel dishonored

Make my ego feel improper

You'd think the hertz was dishonest

You'd think the work was the problem

You'd be the first to the guala

Guess we all run outta options