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Nine Inch Nails
par
Nascar Aloe
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Letra
Turn that f**kin' music down Turn that f**kin' music down f**k you, you f**kin' idiots You and your f**kin' skateboards f**k you, suck my tit (Yeah, yeah) Switchblade specialist, skulls on my necklace Hol' up, wait a second, I am being intersected I got voices in my head, he said "All you n***as is dead" He want me to say that sh*t and then say "Yeah, that's what I said" I ain't givin' up nothin' up to a b*t*h, no discussion I ain't being interrupted as I speak, no sh*t Four-fifth, whole clips, soulless Home is frozen, no friends No b*t*h, two Glicks, whole clips Holy Bible on my table, sittin' in a hotel Heard they was waiting for me outside, oh well Switchblade in my pocket, buddy, you can't even tell Blade take his life-force, bullet shells, hot as Hell (T-T-T-This is a gothaholic mixtape) Stab me with nine-inch nails You think you competition, b*t*h, then you shall (This is a gothaholic mixtape) Demons trapped in my mind like a cell (Cell) So, f**k Heaven, b*t*h, I'd rather go to Hell Stab me with nine-inch nails (Yeah, yeah, yeah) You think you competition, b*t*h, then you shall Demons trapped in my mind like a cell (Agh) So, f**k Heaven, b*t*h, I'd rather go to Hell (f**k) Butterfly knife, I f**k her like twice Lies stuck on my mind, die, must've came by Why f**kers keep tryin'? I doesn't play nice, psych Somethin' ain't right, let's f**kin' fist-fight Please, I wanna watch the way that he drown Hit you in the pit, you down for the count This the type of sh*t, they don't like the sound It's DeathProof, you can't come in the house (This is a gothaholic mixtape) Talkin' crazy? Put the gun in he mouth First, she face me, then I'm kickin' her out He sleep with fish fillet, I think that he doubt It's dry up in the game, we endin' the drought Stab me with nine-inch nails You think you competition, b*t*h, then you shall Demons trapped in my mind like a cell (T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-This is a gothaholic mixtape) So, f**k Heaven, b*t*h, I'd rather go to Hell Stab me with nine-inch nails You think you competition, b*t*h, then you shall (Competition, b*t*h, then you shall) Demons trapped in my mind, like a cell (In my mind like a cell) So, f**k Heaven, b*t*h, I'd rather go to Hell (T-T-T-T-T-This is a gothaholic mixtape)
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