The Trophy Club - Pigeons Lyrics

Wings on my back like a pigeon
Downtown living got em tripping
10 Years later something different
Big shit poppin I can feel it
There's a hole in my soul, can you fill it?
I dont really care about the buisness
I make music independent
Blow up prolly cop another pendant
Live it real shit dont get offended
My city, F*ck you bitches im winning
Get it, Red like my eyes no Civic
Im with it 2 tone lookin like my fitted
Whippin too drunk still pop a wheelie
Two pills poppin whats the dealie
Skate passed you bitches on my Heelys
Lil Bitches can you some liquor for the fishes
Can you save yourself, I know you hate yourself
But its okay cuz life is just fictitious
F*ck it, I want respect you can keep all the money
Go to a show and they look at me funny
Open my mouth now they look at me funny
Tommy Vercetti, I murder its Sunny
Momma spaghetti, Im hurting, Im hungry
Or polished and ready, Inside im still ugly
I f*ck it I said it already you dummys
Ain't study so cheat off yo buddy, If you friends like that
Then id say that you lucky, They best have yo back
And be down to get gully, This shit could get real
It could end up real bloody
Me and my brother we look like the Dudleys
Me and brothers we look like some druggies
Roll up the tree and my weed looking lovely
Sprinkle some seeds on my grave when its muddy

Straight from the dirt like im straight from the Earth
Hand full of percs, yeah this shit like a blur
I dont see a problem busy rollin up purp
I dont see a problem being stoned in a church
Stoned in a church, I dont see a problem being stoned in a church
Stoned in a church, I dont see a problem being stoned in a church

Walk in that church while im smoking that Mary
Praying for Kufu like take care of Perry
Moving some kicks we ain't selling no sperrys
Making these hits yeah we gonna be famous
Ye gonna be famous
Pigeons just flapping its wings in the matrix
You're stupid or basic, Just face it
Or take yo shit back to the basement
Ain't playing im saying, I feel like a Saiyan on Namek
Im feeling too Asian, Fried like the rice no Jamaican
Red White Blue f*ck yo nation
Red White Blue f*ck the natives
How many died over acres? How many living in anger?
How many died from them chambers? History thinner than paper
Theres winners and losers and favors
Religion and murdering haters
Its goes on and on, Play the playlist
Like you in the car play the same shit
Turn that bitch on and its locked on a station
Turn that bitch off lets get back to the pavement
All of these rappers they rap like some caveman
Dont understand about flow or the cadence
I bet that I blow and then splurge it on Kadyn