Correction Lyrics Tornado in Dallas by ZOTiYAC

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Lyrics

I don't like to be the center of attention
I just like to be the ender of pretention
It's like a crashed flight how this'll all go down
Turn yo world upside down like you into the dimension
All's fair love and war
I got an intimate decision for you
What you love more?
Physical freedom or the mental?
Which ever way is good for you
Third-person view
I make it hard to look at like an intricate depiction
Deuce-deuce
Interest wounds
Small like Mysterio
Come through
Masked up
Kickin' like miracles
Yo b*t*h get behind you, she'll go where yo spirit go
It go through you then hit yo Honey Nut, like a Cheerio
Serial killer, I'm bone-chilling, catch you all alone sittin', chrome wingin' out like Fender to the dome hit him
Nine out
Now yo time out
Like you don't listen
Pull up some microwave and like a home kitchen
Give that boy a Spirit flight
If this n***a ride, he gon' pay more than travel flight
Even though the baggage light
Trust I know the sky is bright
Even at the highest height
We'll do you dead wrong, 'specially if the price is right
I don't like to fight, I like to watch the n***a fight for life
Blue and red dots poppin' out, look like Mike and Ike
f**k what n***as heard, no bark, I bite boy I'm the Tyson type
Get low, my left hold the load like I don't like the right

I'm nicer than smooth talkin'
Nicer than new carpets that you take yo shoes off in
Nice as a good bargain, I'm nicer than wood sparkin'
When times get harder, you remember the good parts that you had when it get darker
Smoother than moonwalkin'
pu**y n***as run they lips, I call that a poon faucet
Red eyes, black rings around him runnin' through apartments
Like it's through the garbage
Outside like a racoon stalkin'

.4 or .5 pound like a newborn baby
Make a n***a move out like a newborn baby
Got these muhf**kas panickin' like New World Order
Got these muhf**kas frantic like the news reporter
I got a scope
n***a feeling froggy now he gotta croak
The penalty is death, don't get change like a Audible
If a n***a owe me, I'm the IRS
I'm on his ass yesterday, n***a Y-E-S
If he ain't a heavyweight, my n***a why he flex?
Do not repress
'Cause I'll press and mines eat flesh
I can't promise sh*t, just guarantee a timely death
It's finally set
A clean scene, his mommy wet
The line that connect both soul and body, led
A batty boy
He pu**y cat, his body bled
f**k a ninth life
Ten shots
Die hard
Hit yo I-R-I-S
Get yo eyeball wet

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