Released: December 22, 2014
Songwriter: Scott Arceneaux Jr. Aristos Petrou
Producer: Budd Dwyer
[Intro: $witchblade $crim]
$ui-$ui-$ui-$uicide
Back from the Dead
$witchblade
[Verse 1: $witchblade $crim]
I got dreams of blowing my brains out
While fucking some bitches in the mouth
Keep these hoes wet with a jaw full of clout
Young white demon from the south
Drinking lean, never liquor
Two-phone shawty, dial up the digits
Anarchy's the mission
Said fuck a religion
Can I get a witness? Uh
Syrup in my Icee, having threesomes at the movies
That's the beauty of the groupies
Just gone and ask Lil' Uzi
$uicide, unifies all the scrutinized
So please either crucify or euthanize
My super size fantasy to cease my life
[Verse 2: Lil' Uzi the Antichrist]
Never, never sold crack but I smoked it
Think you the cream of the crop
Imma bring out the locusts
Hold up lemme focus
Yeahhhhh
Bitch, I'm sipping brain punch
Drain my lunch's veins
Blood stains in my fangs, punk
Rock, paper, scissors
Shoot goo in your dame, uh
Walking with a limp
Notre Dame Hunch
Back to the bat cave and pack a wrap fat
Blaze up plankton
I'm fried like Frankenstein
Can't think right
Put a gun to my head with a blank in mind
Take my time
Away from life
I fucking hate my gears and cranks
They grind
All day and night
I might delay my decay if I gave a flying fuck (but I don't)
But I don't, uh
$ui-$ui-$ui-$uicide
Back from the Dead
$witchblade
[Verse 1: $witchblade $crim]
I got dreams of blowing my brains out
While fucking some bitches in the mouth
Keep these hoes wet with a jaw full of clout
Young white demon from the south
Drinking lean, never liquor
Two-phone shawty, dial up the digits
Anarchy's the mission
Said fuck a religion
Can I get a witness? Uh
Syrup in my Icee, having threesomes at the movies
That's the beauty of the groupies
Just gone and ask Lil' Uzi
$uicide, unifies all the scrutinized
So please either crucify or euthanize
My super size fantasy to cease my life
[Verse 2: Lil' Uzi the Antichrist]
Never, never sold crack but I smoked it
Think you the cream of the crop
Imma bring out the locusts
Hold up lemme focus
Yeahhhhh
Bitch, I'm sipping brain punch
Drain my lunch's veins
Blood stains in my fangs, punk
Rock, paper, scissors
Shoot goo in your dame, uh
Walking with a limp
Notre Dame Hunch
Back to the bat cave and pack a wrap fat
Blaze up plankton
I'm fried like Frankenstein
Can't think right
Put a gun to my head with a blank in mind
Take my time
Away from life
I fucking hate my gears and cranks
They grind
All day and night
I might delay my decay if I gave a flying fuck (but I don't)
But I don't, uh
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