T.Y the Truth & B.Goode - Exorcist in the Day (feat. Ayce)

Last night I seen a ghost floating down my hallway
Might of been tripping balls or talking outer space
Had me screaming at the wall
Like the ghost of spades
Had me jumping out a window with my backward face
Had me laughing like possessed Exorcist in the day
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid
Last night I seen a ghost floating down my hallway
Might of been tripping balls or talking outer space
Had me screaming at the wall
Like the ghost of spades
Had me jumping out a window with my backward face
Had me laughing like possessed Exorcist in the day
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid
Aye, yo we smoking on the reefer
We toking on some cheeba
We rolling up the dro just like Wiz Khalifa
We was quarantined for weeks, but we still been losing sleep
Cause we was up all night, ducking shots from the demons
I've been losing my mind, packing bowls of the pine
Just rolled up 2 smoke em' both at a time, Hah do you feel me I'm just living my life
But these fucking ghost's they do the most and most of em' lie shit
All you suckers waiting for me to just drown and go fail
It'll be a cold day up in hell before that happens
Any shit you talking, you'll get beat dawg that ain't rapping
You quick to cop a plea off the top of the dome, no capping
7 In your chest, have you kneeling feeling like Kaepernick
I crucify your hero, I swear my religions Catholic, Amen
For anybody trying to play nice guy, when they acting
No high fives, I'm leaving blood shot eyes when I'm snapping
I wrestle to stay sane, like angle we ain't playing
I'll rip and go like I'm Kurt, so I don't Kurt Cobain
I'm not a gangster but talking threats, I don't play those games
You so much as step and punch deranged, and imma break yo face
Any rapper step against me
I'm swinging like I'm Jack Dempsey
Play that, Biggie give me the loot for anything thing that I do
We set flames to this booth, yo T.y tell them the truth
Last night I seen a ghost floating, hoping, coats of red down the hallway
Not the shining based Stanley Kubrick
More like Stephen kings
See this paranormal face lift, Fucked the whole world, we left it on the cut
And conquered what we saw
Ayce and B.Goode represent, Y'all fuckers have been told
All this game has been sold, he hit you with a fee less than 40%
Pay your rent get the money, pay your bills get sex
But please forget the exorcist
That bitch a hypno mess
Preacher preacher play the world, stealing all the money
The preacher, preacher kill the world
Gonna leave them hungry, run and run and leave them hungry
Last night I seen a ghost floating down my hallway
Might of been tripping balls or talking outer space
Had me screaming at the wall
Like the ghost of spades
Had me jumping out a window with my backward face
Had me laughing like possessed Exorcist in the day
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid
Don't throw up, you won't smoke or you won't get paid

Written by:
Brandon Goode, Freddie Torres, Tyler Gildersleeve

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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