[Intro: Bill Waves]
Yeah
Alright, check it out, check it out
You need some Craven beats, bro, you slippin'
Slippin', bro
[Verse 1: Bill Waves]
I just wish my mind could be at ease
Sometimes I feel like walkin' out of a psychiatric clinic in mid-winter
In a T-shirt and three dollars on my Visa
So I keep it polished like black shoes when the verse leaves the hearse
Crawlin' down Penn Avenue to the cemetery with a box that you sleep in
Put on your church clothes and lower the crown 'til they sprinkle out my urn to gospel
In Westinghouse Park where they grieve me
I'm the only one who wrote this
Dope 'til you overdose and can't smell the roses
The flow so cold that it wear a coat, you'd be freezin'
It's so cold, colder than anybody who's frozen
Wearin' gym shorts when it snows and it didn't even shrink my penis
I don't joke, snakes catch my scent with their tongue
I open their throats when they get close and skin 'em like pill coating 'til they're reekin'
Skills glow like hot coals, you can't hold us
I been tryna balance boulders
Wearin' Air Force Ones, tryin' not to crease them
I crafted this, broke it, built it back, mastered it, owned it
Used to be in a group home with a P.O. searchin' all my belongings
Now I'm back in the East End, no more air that smells like ash and stale Newports
If you went in my home, there's no smoke and I'm breathin'
If you think we can't see your lies, you must be jokin', it's easy
You've never known us, the people that try and teach us
You can't find peace when you're sober, really, you're just the weak ones
The yard used to be full of guts and cigars all season
Now there's flowers in bloom for your funeral in the garden and I'm the florist
Motherfucker, you better believe it
[Interlude]
You need some Craven beats, bro, you slippin'
Slippin', bro
[Verse 2: Beedie]
Ayo, we blowin' smelly flowers, it's pungent
No respect for chumps stallin' when that dough callin' (Never)
Bein' broke, that's old habit, replace my old garments
To cover up my thick skin, never bothered by your comments (Uh-uh)
How these lames claim that they ain't informants? What a performance
I been tormented 'til I felt jaded, I paint it morbid
But don't bring that black cloud over here 'cause I can't absorb it (No)
What are we blowin' down? That's foggy enough
I body you and your buddy, bruh, you ain't brolic enough
The product get puffed, the powder puff get caught in your bluff
So many packs get trafficked, I could fill a charter bus up
Chisel through a rock in a hard place 'fore I'm caught in a rut
Keep my eyes on the prize, mami, when I target the butt (Come here, baby)
Don't ever shorthand to God like you wrote it in T9 (Don't do that)
They talkin' gossip like the T line
I can't get behind the way you be slime, I should be shootin' from the free-line
If I never heard of rap, I woulda been happy with a Nissan
Instead I copped the Benz that got the twenty-inch stock rims
They told me I got the juice, I'm flushin' out the toxins
Holy Water boilin' over, look, I'm hoppin' out it
Crack in the flesh, I meant a cracker, what about it? (What about it?)
I knew sins of youth, the toughest ain't the loudest (Uh-uh)
If we silent in your presence, then I recommend to stay from 'round us
When it come to profits, I been known for fillin' coffins
Been the illest since Mickey D's had foam burger boxes, look
[Outro: Beedie]
It's Beedie
Beedro
It's that Ghost Bully shit, y'all know what the fuck we do
Baby
READ MORE ABOUT BEEDIE
