Correction Paroles The End Is Near par Ab-soul

Featuring(s) : Mac Miller

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Paroles

[Ab-Soul]
Yo, check – my flow in unknown to man yet
Damnit – keep runnin' 'round like an annual banquet
Made a withdrawal with your broad, she left the bank wet
Rub her like a condom, contemplating dangerous sex
I'm unimpressed with your talent, skills still appeal
A maestro on the mic, though, I'm almost as ill as Camille, for real
Ain't never runnin' from nothin', I'm fit to tread mills
Name another movement making time stand still...
High-powered to the third degree
Murder, we emerged, and it was an emergency
It's closed curtains for you worthless earthlings
Hurtin' 'cause I rise like mercury in the burning heat
Words on the streets, Solo done done it again
Look at me, I used to match a dub sack with my friends
No we smokin' by the O, like the letters P and N
Ain't have to start watching CNN for you to see an in
It's coming quicker than you think, don't mean to rub it in
Like Lubriderm, but you should learn that you could never f*ck with him
Abs gettin' bigger, but I ain't do no sit-ups
Got the hiccups, 'cause I keep puffin' 'Ports without the filter
Feel the vibe switch in every single room that I enter
Told my bitch to make room for a tomb for her placenta, nigga
I'll f*ck her 'til she have a seizure in my leisure time
She know I love her, also know I don't need her
'Cause I'm a king, and I smoke a lot of weed
That makes sense, it's about 33 ounces in a litre
In layman's terms, you lames had better pay respect
Or you'll be sleepin', they'll be at your wake, payin' their respects

Said it's the soul cold wickedness – old folk killin' shit
Most Dope syndicate, the Go Pro's filming it
Good coke, sniffin' shit – broke, no benefits
Smack him in his face and then I'm blowin' smoke into it
Obliterated on a big estate, shit...
I figure fame is just a bitch's game
That's why there's raindrops drippin' off my windowpane
And I was gettin' money far before the fiscal game
Official names, got plugs like a new strain does
You may be hot inside your city, but homie you ain't us
You can't trust nothin' if it's comin' with a dollar sign
It's genius coming from out of my awkward mind
Cross the line? It's just not the time
And he ain't thinkin', put that red dot on his mind
I'm Satana's bandana, against me, you don't stand a chance
Call you fancy pants, 'cause when you drunk, you do the hammer dance
If there's a random chance you f*ckin' up my Phantom plans
I'mma go bananas and blam 'em until the ambulance
My mother's sonogram was like a mission statement
'Cause I wasn't patient, left that p*ssy in a spaceship
Y'all fools basic, your parents both racist
I'm lawyering these hoes out here, beating cases
She eatin' dick, so she plead the Fifth
Yeah, it's Larry Fish, homie, he's a myth
You sunk my battleship, I be in Nazareth 'bout where Jesus lived
And your homie with you, he's a bitch, some vagina shit
Gettin' faded, go sing in Vegas
I'm just observing, a man of different faces
Yup, some dick licker want my kids in her
She a switch hitter, told her bring a bitch with her
The dick split her like a Swisher then I'm outtie... outtie
I never eat the p*ssy if it's lousy... lousy
I'm the prodigal son, the ominous Nostradamus
Anonymous visions, confidant, some Obama shit
In moccasins, takin' Annie... alright...

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