What? Fuck what you think, bitch Fuck what you thought Till my corpse rot, Deadboy to the top Try to give it what you got but what you got ain't enough Time to hang it up, take a walk, get lunch Everything untouchable will always get touched Skeleton hands remain through the flood Floating down the street up to no good I done see ya hood now let me take you to the woods
Decomposing, decomposing (yeah) Every second decomposing (yeah) Decomposing, decomposing Every second decomposing (wait)
Throw some silica gel packs inside my casket Don't need to mold already live through that shit Hold up the store if they keep on asking "Bones, who did you sign too?", — yes, I'd imagine That it would seem that way, now tell me is it good or bad The hundred dollar bill pass just for the wood packs No, not at all it was El that booked that If you want a show it depends how I feel bitch
I won't flip for some bills, bitch Do a frickin' cartwheel for 8 dollars «I won't do a cartwheel for 8 dollars»Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.