APPALACHIA
Witchouse 40k
GENRE
[Witchouse 40k]
Cemetery, past full of ghosts
Pull-up with a blade, with a scope out
Cock back, got my hand up on your chain to your throat
Bitch I’m from the jungle, wheres the smoke at?
Skull crack.. Witchy leaving bullets in they bros
Pullup and I’m dishing them toe tags
A bully of the bandits, imma leave them wit no mask
Got no hands.. smack a pussy rapper, get blown back
My hands up in his coffin, he not getting his bones back
Aye
Pullup to your addy with the Glock out
Fifty in the drum, I squeeze the trigger he get shot down
We pop out
Pulling right up, I see em and I call out
“Walkin out the coffin I’m about to hold the block down”
Pullup alone, we gon pop up
Best have that two’s on your side whеn you walk up
Extensions all on me, I’m turning the block around
Hе want the smoke wit the gang, he get shot up
[TWENTYTHREE]
No there’s No time for change, I give no mind to the pain, in the back it’s a stack of decay
I don’t hear the complaints
Wash it now there’s blood up in the paint
Fuck it up and see the body shake
I never needed to relate
Slowly know I’m headed to the grave
Only waiting so I find the shade
With a safe and a blade
Run with delay on my brain and I
Won’t need to work on my aim
Know they’re talking bout nothing
Through all the silence I’m hearing the other side see I can tell you he’s bluffing
No they ain’t do that
All of the talk on the internet ending with half of him stuck in a blue bag
I think you knew that
Where is the truth at?
I need to find a way out of the end I’ve been tying and bringing the noose back, who tha
Cemetery, past full of ghosts
Pull-up with a blade, with a scope out
Cock back, got my hand up on your chain to your throat
Bitch I’m from the jungle, wheres the smoke at?
Skull crack.. Witchy leaving bullets in they bros
Pullup and I’m dishing them toe tags
A bully of the bandits, imma leave them wit no mask
Got no hands.. smack a pussy rapper, get blown back
My hands up in his coffin, he not getting his bones back
Aye
Pullup to your addy with the Glock out
Fifty in the drum, I squeeze the trigger he get shot down
We pop out
Pulling right up, I see em and I call out
“Walkin out the coffin I’m about to hold the block down”
Pullup alone, we gon pop up
Best have that two’s on your side whеn you walk up
Extensions all on me, I’m turning the block around
Hе want the smoke wit the gang, he get shot up
[TWENTYTHREE]
No there’s No time for change, I give no mind to the pain, in the back it’s a stack of decay
I don’t hear the complaints
Wash it now there’s blood up in the paint
Fuck it up and see the body shake
I never needed to relate
Slowly know I’m headed to the grave
Only waiting so I find the shade
With a safe and a blade
Run with delay on my brain and I
Won’t need to work on my aim
Know they’re talking bout nothing
Through all the silence I’m hearing the other side see I can tell you he’s bluffing
No they ain’t do that
All of the talk on the internet ending with half of him stuck in a blue bag
I think you knew that
Where is the truth at?
I need to find a way out of the end I’ve been tying and bringing the noose back, who tha
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