Underground like your iris to an eyebrow
Profound spit a quick virus atcha hometown
Flag down, indecisive but my tree surround sound
Touchdown start a f*cking crisis when I touch-down
Pessimistic
My brain twisted
Can't catch a feeling
His Lungs black
The kid back
But chasin demons
Pretty low
I cant cope
To touch the ceiling
Mental prison
Ignition building
Hes in my way
Killin me
Voices in my head say everything's ok
Whatchu mean?
I remember older days, lemonade stands
Now I cant stand
Tryna figure out a plan
18 thats a backhand
Got me feelin bland
With this pen
Put it all through
From my slit wrists
Pissed fists
I been tryna get this
F*ck a mistress
You don't know my pain
Crashed twice
Now I cant slang
Hang wit my mains
Just tryna do my thang
Rap game changed
I just want my own lane
Lost my job yesterday
Bruh I dont even care
8 dollars for an hour bullshits unfair
Pop my collar rap it off til my weed mans here
Like i'm embedded
The adolescent is steppin in
Stressin but destined
My mind within be the medicine
So I, focus in turning fakes to sediment
F*ck a specimen
Rip em til they skeleton
Then fly off like a pelican
If you disagree you must be trippin off the mescaline
Pedal to the metal, adrenaline with the pen (uh)
Spread it on tha track like bread n butter or cinnamon
When I hit the mic, it's just me f*ck a middleman
Really no comparison to me you just a milligram
No innocence AK out the minivan, get smoked just like afghan *ahem*
While i'm relaxing in the studio off tha dro, snapping messin with the kid hitcha down wit a
Smacking
Seeing all this talk
But they never do the action
Yea they never do tha action
Twist some ego in my blunt then I'm gassin
Yung Crusha - Twisted Ego (Prod. RO$$) Lyrics
Yung Crusha - Twisted Ego (Prod. RO$$) Lyrics
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Underground like your iris to an eyebrow
Profound spit a quick virus atcha hometown
Flag down, indecisive but my tree surround sound
Touchdown start a f*cking crisis when I touch-down
Pessimistic
My brain twisted
Can't catch a feeling
His Lungs black
The kid back
But chasin demons
Pretty low
I cant cope
To touch the ceiling
Mental prison
Ignition building
Hes in my way
Killin me
Voices in my head say everything's ok
Whatchu mean?
I remember older days, lemonade stands
Now I cant stand
Tryna figure out a plan
18 thats a backhand
Got me feelin bland
With this pen
Put it all through
From my slit wrists
Pissed fists
I been tryna get this
F*ck a mistress
You don't know my pain
Crashed twice
Now I cant slang
Hang wit my mains
Just tryna do my thang
Rap game changed
I just want my own lane
Lost my job yesterday
Bruh I dont even care
8 dollars for an hour bullshits unfair
Pop my collar rap it off til my weed mans here
Like i'm embedded
The adolescent is steppin in
Stressin but destined
My mind within be the medicine
So I, focus in turning fakes to sediment
F*ck a specimen
Rip em til they skeleton
Then fly off like a pelican
If you disagree you must be trippin off the mescaline
Pedal to the metal, adrenaline with the pen (uh)
Spread it on tha track like bread n butter or cinnamon
When I hit the mic, it's just me f*ck a middleman
Really no comparison to me you just a milligram
No innocence AK out the minivan, get smoked just like afghan *ahem*
While i'm relaxing in the studio off tha dro, snapping messin with the kid hitcha down wit a
Smacking
Seeing all this talk
But they never do the action
Yea they never do tha action
Twist some ego in my blunt then I'm gassin
Profound spit a quick virus atcha hometown
Flag down, indecisive but my tree surround sound
Touchdown start a f*cking crisis when I touch-down
Pessimistic
My brain twisted
Can't catch a feeling
His Lungs black
The kid back
But chasin demons
Pretty low
I cant cope
To touch the ceiling
Mental prison
Ignition building
Hes in my way
Killin me
Voices in my head say everything's ok
Whatchu mean?
I remember older days, lemonade stands
Now I cant stand
Tryna figure out a plan
18 thats a backhand
Got me feelin bland
With this pen
Put it all through
From my slit wrists
Pissed fists
I been tryna get this
F*ck a mistress
You don't know my pain
Crashed twice
Now I cant slang
Hang wit my mains
Just tryna do my thang
Rap game changed
I just want my own lane
Lost my job yesterday
Bruh I dont even care
8 dollars for an hour bullshits unfair
Pop my collar rap it off til my weed mans here
Like i'm embedded
The adolescent is steppin in
Stressin but destined
My mind within be the medicine
So I, focus in turning fakes to sediment
F*ck a specimen
Rip em til they skeleton
Then fly off like a pelican
If you disagree you must be trippin off the mescaline
Pedal to the metal, adrenaline with the pen (uh)
Spread it on tha track like bread n butter or cinnamon
When I hit the mic, it's just me f*ck a middleman
Really no comparison to me you just a milligram
No innocence AK out the minivan, get smoked just like afghan *ahem*
While i'm relaxing in the studio off tha dro, snapping messin with the kid hitcha down wit a
Smacking
Seeing all this talk
But they never do the action
Yea they never do tha action
Twist some ego in my blunt then I'm gassin
Writer: Yung Crusha
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid