Yeah
Uh-huh
Beautiful evils
Yeah
Check me out
[Verse 1: Pusha T]
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is victims
My young niggas sic' ‘em
I don’t get ‘em
I just get back their jewelry if I’m fuckin’ with ‘em
Your man crush Mondays be owin’ niggas
My skin is triple black, I’m the omen
You can’t kill a God like the Romans, uh
Take my time to craft shit
‘Cause I don’t like back and forths with Puff about rap shit
[Verse 2: Pusha T]
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is victims
Rappers is victimized at an all-time high
But not I, you pop niggas thought I let it fly
I’m Yasiel Puig, I’m in another league
I defected, only thing we have in common, niggas bleed
In ya thousand dollar joggers as you rhyme about ya dollars
Is there shame when a platinum rapper’s mother lives in squalor?
Mildred’s in the Bahamas for the month
She’s probably sitting in her pajamas having lunch
Swordfish, my reality is more fish
Banana clips for all you Curious Georges
Old niggas slapping young niggas
Ha Imagine that, where you from nigga?
[Verse 3: Pusha T]
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is death by the masses
The only asterisk is the change of address
My infinity pool as long as Magic’s
Yeah I let Zillow change my pillows
The home is so inviting, the Porsche is the armadillo
The silhouette
The pop, pop, pop; the chop, chop, chop
The throwaway TEC's got Tourettes
It’s more than this drug money, I love money
I speak to your soul and that’s above money
This the ministry of street energy
The church of criminology, teaching my chemistries
Woo I’m the L. Ron Hubbard of the cupboard
To some certain motherfuckers gotta love it
[Outro]
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is victims
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is victims
[Intro: Pusha T] Yeah Uh-huh Beautiful evils Yeah Check me out [Verse 1: Pusha T] Crutches, crosses, caskets Crutches, crosses, caskets All I see is victims My young niggas sic' ‘em I don’t get ‘em I just get back their jewelry if I’m fuckin’ with ‘em Your man crush Mondays be owin’ niggas My skin is triple black, I’m the omen You can’t kill a God like the Romans, uh Take my time to craft shit ‘Cause I don’t like back and forths with Puff about rap shit [Verse 2: Pusha T] Crutches, crosses, caskets Crutches, crosses, caskets All I see is victims Rappers is victimized at an all-time high But not I, you pop niggas thought I let it fly I’m Yasiel Puig, I’m in another league I defected, only thing we have in common, niggas bleed In ya thousand dollar joggers as you rhyme about ya dollars Is there shame when a platinum rapper’s mother lives in squalor? Mildred’s in the Bahamas for the month She’s probably sitting in her pajamas having lunch Swordfish, my reality is more fish Banana clips for all you Curious Georges Old niggas slapping young niggas Ha Imagine that, where you from nigga? [Verse 3: Pusha T] Crutches, crosses, caskets Crutches, crosses, caskets All I see is death by the masses The only asterisk is the change of address My infinity pool as long as Magic’s Yeah I let Zillow change my pillows The home is so inviting, the Porsche is the armadillo The silhouette The pop, pop, pop; the chop, chop, chop The throwaway TEC's got Tourettes It’s more than this drug money, I love money I speak to your soul and that’s above money This the ministry of street energy The church of criminology, teaching my chemistries Woo I’m the L. Ron Hubbard of the cupboard To some certain motherfuckers gotta love it [Outro] Crutches, crosses, caskets Crutches, crosses, caskets All I see is victims Crutches, crosses, caskets Crutches, crosses, caskets All I see is victims Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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