Verbal Kint - Fiend

Fiend nigga i'm on top of the gold
The green differs never selling my soul
The beams bigger I blow and let go
I'm the king killer i'm holding my own
It's a flea flicker ran all the way home
On her knees nigga after shots of Patron
I sit in the mountains i'm smoking big dope
I'm losing control DMT got me gone
What can they say to the king of cats
I poor me a four ain't no lean in that
On molly my dick hard as baseball bats
My fingers are wrapped in her lace in fact
Put one in her oven
No talks no discussion
Sucking me up
Till she get a concussion
We drunk she from Flushing
I love a white Russian
Vodka the substance
My spunk on her stomach

The shadows here bout as dark as it gets
Don't own his masters but a flooded Patek
Y'all niggas pathet ain't really no threats
They really lethargic I lay um to rest
Jordan or Jackson I say i'm the best
Raising the steaks I would say i'm the chef
Fair is foul I would say i'm Macbeth
Now the bears gone prowl
I don't play with regrets
Been dreaming bout pussy on Fiji shore
But I do not need it see mi amor
She calling me gorgeous my ego morph
Dick in her spine make her face contort
Picasso i'm Pablo in demon form
This Rothko's my model
I'm black and bored
Tell Kendrick he the one that i'm aiming for
Stuff all the goats in the basement floor

Written by:
Juliano Louis

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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