Wahid - Brody

Bought my freedom by a liquor store and
Could feel my hands in mourning
Comfort the seals, the sand is true in steel, a truant portion
Pay me in famines hornet, nest where I fester fortune
Less if we set the toning
In the means of grip, my tentative pot
Fill it all up like arena, my soreness...
Like cries of a babe, I wear my... shame on my shoulders conscience
No prayers saving us... those cater to a lighter
Skin than my brother's fire, see mines is burnt desires
More like a... beetle
Hurts that it might purchase me tho
Purge to a deserted, land
Offer he more mice look at my needles
Call my bluff, want my stuff in a new bag
These tricks is on speaker
Got em bouncing like rabbits, to the plight of my peace
It's our leisure, they see us

Eyes open
Ain't no surprises, we pull back and slide up by ya homies
And take they life away, it's like the pain is all we know and
They called me slave before, so now I'm slaving to these 40's
Guns smoking, where ya funds brody? Run it brody

Guns smoking, where ya funds brody? Run it brody
Guns smoking, where ya funds brody? Run it brody
Guns smoking, where ya funds brody? Run it brody
Guns smoking, where ya funds brody?

No sharing, lengths of this tape is blaring
Faces was so familiar, till dust was on appearance
Daughters without they parents
Son on the corner.. serving up bags to momma
Father forgive em, for fathers left us for drugs and torment
Bubonic, due process.. youngins fishing for time with
Cracks in they hands and eyelids
Strapped to they pants in silence
Day wishing, for the zippo point to gas and burn they kitchen
No harken back, this heart is on attach, attack this living
A prodigy was risen, risking life
On the move from juices to ice
Clueless to the usage of rights
Movement to a lucid is spiked
Ruthless with a crucifix type
Cool kid simmer down that ego, get used to an oldie's advice
The figures rode in tight, don't say no more
I left the project, Mr Jefferson won't he adore...
Me when I rise to occasion, but quickly turn them features
Back to the prospect of wearing mask and shooting at bleachers
Egregious, they see us

Eyes open
Ain't no surprises, we pull back and slide up by ya homies,
And take they life away, it's like the pain is all we know and
They called me slave before, so now I'm slaving to these 40's
Guns smoking, where ya funds brody? Run it brody

Guns smoking, where ya funds brody? Run it brody
Guns smoking, where ya funds brody? Run it brody
Guns smoking, where ya funds brody? Run it brody
Guns smoking, where ya funds brody?

Written by:
Joshua Brown

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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