What if God made a snuff film
Little brown boys stay broke
The rich get paid while they f*ck in the dark
People in the streets can't eat and they tentatively finna f*cking die with their throats cut
Cops on your neck, can't breathe
Boot hits the throat, then it all goes away
Lights go dim, and the tongue tastes blood
While you wonder if you'll ever be a motherf*cking martyr for a hashtag
What if God made a snuff film
Little brown boys sell dope
The rich f*ck kids, kill their friend in the cell
People on the street sling bods cuz the slit sell better when you beat em near senseless
Pay what you want for a feel
Temp sensations then you're off of the pipe
Life goes dim and your skin start to peel
While you wonder if you'll ever be a motherf*cking martyr for a hashtag
WHAT IF GOD MADE A SNUFF FILM Video (MV)
Swimmie Fish - WHAT IF GOD MADE A SNUFF FILM Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
What if God made a snuff film
Little brown boys stay broke
The rich get paid while they f*ck in the dark
People in the streets can't eat and they tentatively finna f*cking die with their throats cut
Cops on your neck, can't breathe
Boot hits the throat, then it all goes away
Lights go dim, and the tongue tastes blood
While you wonder if you'll ever be a motherf*cking martyr for a hashtag
What if God made a snuff film
Little brown boys sell dope
The rich f*ck kids, kill their friend in the cell
People on the street sling bods cuz the slit sell better when you beat em near senseless
Pay what you want for a feel
Temp sensations then you're off of the pipe
Life goes dim and your skin start to peel
While you wonder if you'll ever be a motherf*cking martyr for a hashtag
Little brown boys stay broke
The rich get paid while they f*ck in the dark
People in the streets can't eat and they tentatively finna f*cking die with their throats cut
Cops on your neck, can't breathe
Boot hits the throat, then it all goes away
Lights go dim, and the tongue tastes blood
While you wonder if you'll ever be a motherf*cking martyr for a hashtag
What if God made a snuff film
Little brown boys sell dope
The rich f*ck kids, kill their friend in the cell
People on the street sling bods cuz the slit sell better when you beat em near senseless
Pay what you want for a feel
Temp sensations then you're off of the pipe
Life goes dim and your skin start to peel
While you wonder if you'll ever be a motherf*cking martyr for a hashtag
Writer: Michael Pena
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid