[Commentary: Suffa]
Yeah, let 'em kiss it. Uh, we're coming to the end of the Golden Era Mixtape 2015. Shoutouts to Faint One for mixing this sh**... uh, shoutouts to the whole squad: Adfu, Funkoars, uh, K21, Vents One, Briggler, uh... I'd better spit something cause I haven't done sh**!
[Intro]
We'll never be sick
(We'll never be sick, we won't get any older and we won't ever die.)
We won't get any older
We won't ever die
(I feel tremendous! I'm ready to take over the world!)
[Verse 1]
Every night I'm crawling in a bottle, but I stay aware
That you don't drown by fallin' in, you drown by f**in' staying there
My demons are a joke to me, I've been on the same page
As them ever since the day they came and f**in' spoke to me
I'm standin' at the window like I'm Malcolm X
Lookin' through the blinds like "has Vents dropped the motherf**in' album yet?"
Bouncin' with them malcontents, welcoming you to the fall
Turning everything to gold, I'm just another Alchemist
This comes out of Malkovich's head, I'm hearing voices
I'm sobbing, fall apart, then I start seeing visions
But the problem's not when you hear you hear them voices
The problem's when you starting f**in' agreeing with 'em
Cloud surfin' on chemtrails, I tear
Down the crowd till I'm out crowd surfin' on entrails
I impale rappers when they fall in my pit
And throw shade at these decks like a solar eclipse
Now let's go
[Hook]
This god's wearing my hands like gloves
This god's wearing my hands like gloves
Cause god's wearing my hands like gloves
To write these bars
This god's wearing my hands like gloves
God's wearing my hands like gloves
God's wearing my hands like gloves
To write these bars
[Intermission]
(You know what I like to do though?)
What's that?
(I like to take things up a notch.)
Okay
[Verse 2]
I'm sitting in the cinema, spitting when you scream like bullies in the backseat trying to pick a street fight
Never gonna give it up or let it go, so pick it up, (they wear my hands like gloves)
Let loose on red lines, putting on the headline: "actual actors act all aged"
You're chilling in the breadline, "Billy is bedtime?", factor tabs [?] so back away
Back the f** up, mane
Before I get my man, Briggs, to back the truck up and
Cover you with garbage, the carnage is cathartic
I'm taking the advantage like Russians in the Arctic
Let's go
[Hook]
This god's wearing my hands like gloves
This god's wearing my hands like gloves
This god's wearing my hands like gloves
To write these bars
This god's wearing my hands like gloves
God's wearing my hands like gloves
God's wearing my hands like gloves
To write these bars