Kishore Kumar Hits

For the Speakers - GOLD FINGER lyrics

Artist: For the Speakers

album: FOR THE SPEAKERS, Vol. 1


Pick my decisions a visionary in depiction
I put it together while burning my bridges
And pushing my limits
A foot in the grave but I ain't finished living
Immortal indifferent to second silvers when he clenching the winnings
Devil is sinning a threat in the wind
But it never intimidate him
Gripping the ring of Olympics, been crossing the scribbles
And wondering how I done did it again
Fidget my hand
Got my finger on a pistol
I'm sending it straight at your head
Wondering how many bodies I caught just from sitting with paper and pen
Make it out so I got pesos to spend
I don't hang with the fake who going to hate on they mans
Take over there with that energy
Don't come around here try shaking my hand
Going crazy, been insane in the head
Never play me, feel like Jordan in the 90s
If they try me, I might have to do them slimy like I'm Thugger in Atlanta
Shrug it off and stick my tongue at the net
Another substance to the stomach gutted
I can't run from the trouble
Dug in it deeper, the mud on the shovel
Stuck in his struggles
Stressed on collecting each piece of the puzzle
Beef or the muscle seeming weak, I got to teach them something
'Bout a deeper meaning of an easy hustle
Leave them each accustomed
Chiefing reefer think I'm seeing double
Just a blunt in each hand you all ain't seeing nothing
If they need a feature, they could keep it coming
Unless they want it beat up for a decent number
Green and glutton, pockets on De Niro
Tryna meet the fuckers who gone stop at zero just to make a profit
Comic hero, call me Peter Parker
Onomatopoeia, now they need a doctor
Keep the Mary Jane in my jean pocket
Momma telling me to ease off it
But my demons ain't giving a peace offering
Can't sleep proper, tryna feel stronger
Lift it off my shoulder like I'm Cena
Hit them back with 3 combos
I don't pray often, tryna reach God
Know them days longer, but I stay strong
Got a gold finger like I'm James Bond
Need a soul singer in my safe arm
When I make songs, all my mics turning into pipe bombs
Grip napalm tight, lights switching
I could make dark night quite distant but my aim strong
They could play cards
I got 21, slaughter gang all them
Take the winnings to the bank
Blow it in a day just to feel the same
But at least my chain sparkle
(Yeah)

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