YaYu - STONED WOLF THEORY

Gang outside, oh the gang outside
I don't give a fuck where you hang out by
Whole scope shrunk when my hands got tied
Take a wide ass shot, hope it pans out right
See my claws clean
Bite talk, no bark when I talk mean
And what I talk I mean
And do it properly
I went to find the sauce
It wasn't taught to me
I had to actually plan it
Lacking a standard of culture, I'm only attached to the planet
This big ball where we don't have any manners
Its Grifball, I'm fighting gravity hammered
Off half of an onion, cry at the sight of it
Too much design in my mind when igniting it
My truth lie in the lines
It be time after time fore I find my enlightenment
Swerving the signs of my siphoning
Techs when we drive, I be trying my life again
Roadkill poet gon' spit from the ride
Then I turn up like Allen and die on the side of it
Wait
Ready for anything, keep a heavy thing
Pretty penny well spent in this renaissance
I don't know many men who do many things
Had too many attempts, they won't let me pop
When they run with my style, who they crediting?
It was con from the start, no professional
I know me, fuck the charges they levying
Still pack on me
All times
Gang outside, oh your gang outside
I don't give a fuck where you hang out by
Whole scope shrunk when my hands got tied
Take a wide ass shot, hope it pans out right
I'm
Charging that shit to the game
I'm a part of it, hardly could give them the blame, like
All of this shit is the same
But I already started, decisions were made
My honest regards, you kids are insane
But a lot of that drama is literal pain, like
All of it written again
I chart out the target and stick in a lane
I can't stop
Everyday I be okay
Not!
Set rate, I pick up the pace
Momma I'm sorry, I did something great
Can't go out like Ye, no stock in a race
Like all of it fake
Might as well start, we were already late
I want the knowledge, the conscious innate
Wait out the spawn and I pop me a eighth
I wanna see god, I pop me a eight
Hieronymus paint
Patterns are wrote on the wall
It seem like the white pharaoh life a mistake
We highly mistaken
Contact high, I like information
Split that pie, I'm Christ in the grain
My bread rise off psilo, I'm banking
Rest of my life, I'm-a spend it awake
Fuckboy
All dogs go to heaven
All dogs go to heaven
All dogs go to heaven
All dogs go to heaven
All dogs go to heaven
All dogs go to heaven

Written by:
Dawson Witt

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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