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Martin Sky – Void lyrics
Holly hub sykes, dusting ashes off my denim
Bucket hat up on my cranium, blaming them for the alien
Made it, categories, spit is sicker than they is
Microphone checking and hoping you niggas playing
Never free us, only factual, I meant normal
Getting recognition from saying absolutely nothing
In the sinner's butt
I'm only resting when I'm considered the best
And that will probably be tomorrow, understand it, let it settle in
A toast for them guys, blunts for the brides ' ahead of the laws
That you placed upon a rapper that be spitting on some other shit
Talking tone about a revolution, I'm the head of it
Turn into a literal animal with the pen in hand
Energy, yeah, I'm finna speaking in span so I don't give a damn
Ozone on my window pane, nigga
I'm in the clouds, I be soaring through the distance, man
Boy of the new sounds, I bet I'm in it
Crowd full of hands up, I'm tryna get it
Rolling up, chilling, y'all tripping, got a lil' weed in my system
And a whip, blast my own music, park it here, packing lot pimping
Boy of the new sounds, I bet I'm in it
Crowd full of hands up, I'm tryna get it
Rolling up, chilling, y'all tripping, got a lil' weed in my system
And a whip, blast my own music, park it here, packing lot pimping
Simplicity is bitter sweet, look at it bitterly
I'm pondering on cinnamon sticks and rap wizardry
Pause at the end of the equation we just tryna solve
Yeah, ain't tryna wait but niggas wanna stall
And get put off 'cause I ain't really trying to wait on y'all
Take the bait and pray it ain't no hook inside your fucking jaw
Type on my problem, never going back, no
Bar 24, there's clothes and some shit on that now
I be from the city where you lack and get on up
No, I ain't killing but all of my niggas give no fucks
Please don't be no stain, everybody tryna come up
I'mma be cooler with my homies, blowing ozone until the sun's up
Boy of the new sounds, I bet I'm in it
Crowd full of hands up, I'm tryna get it
Rolling up, chilling, y'all tripping, got a lil' weed in my system
And a whip, blast my own music, park it here, packing lot pimping
Boy of the new sounds, I bet I'm in it
Crowd full of hands up, I'm tryna get it
Rolling up, chilling, y'all tripping, got a lil' weed in my system
And a whip, blast my own music, park it here, packing lot pimping
Bucket hat up on my cranium, blaming them for the alien
Made it, categories, spit is sicker than they is
Microphone checking and hoping you niggas playing
Never free us, only factual, I meant normal
Getting recognition from saying absolutely nothing
In the sinner's butt
I'm only resting when I'm considered the best
And that will probably be tomorrow, understand it, let it settle in
A toast for them guys, blunts for the brides ' ahead of the laws
That you placed upon a rapper that be spitting on some other shit
Talking tone about a revolution, I'm the head of it
Turn into a literal animal with the pen in hand
Energy, yeah, I'm finna speaking in span so I don't give a damn
Ozone on my window pane, nigga
I'm in the clouds, I be soaring through the distance, man
Boy of the new sounds, I bet I'm in it
Crowd full of hands up, I'm tryna get it
Rolling up, chilling, y'all tripping, got a lil' weed in my system
And a whip, blast my own music, park it here, packing lot pimping
Boy of the new sounds, I bet I'm in it
Crowd full of hands up, I'm tryna get it
Rolling up, chilling, y'all tripping, got a lil' weed in my system
And a whip, blast my own music, park it here, packing lot pimping
Simplicity is bitter sweet, look at it bitterly
I'm pondering on cinnamon sticks and rap wizardry
Pause at the end of the equation we just tryna solve
Yeah, ain't tryna wait but niggas wanna stall
And get put off 'cause I ain't really trying to wait on y'all
Take the bait and pray it ain't no hook inside your fucking jaw
Type on my problem, never going back, no
Bar 24, there's clothes and some shit on that now
I be from the city where you lack and get on up
No, I ain't killing but all of my niggas give no fucks
Please don't be no stain, everybody tryna come up
I'mma be cooler with my homies, blowing ozone until the sun's up
Boy of the new sounds, I bet I'm in it
Crowd full of hands up, I'm tryna get it
Rolling up, chilling, y'all tripping, got a lil' weed in my system
And a whip, blast my own music, park it here, packing lot pimping
Boy of the new sounds, I bet I'm in it
Crowd full of hands up, I'm tryna get it
Rolling up, chilling, y'all tripping, got a lil' weed in my system
And a whip, blast my own music, park it here, packing lot pimping
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/m/martin_sky/void.html
