Hall of Fame

Lines to Remember is a handpicked collection of English songs with lyrics that linger — the lines that hit, haunt, heal or hold you. From whispered truths to anthemic confessions, this playlist is for those who listen with their heart wide open. Because some lines don’t just rhyme — they stay.

Lines to Remember ist eine handverlesene Sammlung englischer Songs mit Zeilen, die bleiben – die treffen, trösten, wehtun oder wärmen. Zwischen Flüstern und Aufschrei, zwischen Herz und Kopfhörer: Diese Playlist ist für alle, die wirklich hinhören. Denn manche Zeilen reimen sich nicht nur – sie bleiben.

Lines to remember

THIS IS Bro

Banger Playlist

Country

G59 & Moreeee

Like No More Than 20 Songs

Still smells like June

Warpy

[VERSE I: Lord of Loneliness]
ruby be pulling these hoes all over the globe
but still i'm alone putting shit up my nose
all of the money, the cars, and the clothes
it comes and it goes
one day i'll be ready to gather my bones
dig me a hole
say goodbye as my two eyes start to close
but that day ain't even close
all of yall leave me alone
leave me alone
who the fuck won't copy us?
no stopping us
she blocked me cause i'm stocking up on foxy sluts and shoddy cuffs
no roxy dust
i'm oddy nuff
the next bitch who wanna lock me up i'm knocking up
the rope in my hand keeps knotting up
i'm so tired of thinking i'm not enough

[VERSE II: Lil Remains]
pull up in a drop top
(why?)
people tryna take what's mine
(who?)
people i called my friends
(where?)
people i called my fam, goddamn
speed dial my style for a fix
(when?)
right now and i don't wanna hear shit
(wait what?)
i tell a hoe take off before i cut the dope off
living too painful to quit
i been dreaming of a reason not to paint the fucking ceiling with my brains and mypain
that's just how the fuck i'm feeling
tired of hurting
feeling worthless
is this God thing really working?
pointless searching for a purpose
meet me at my service

Sing Me a Lullaby, My Sweet Temptation

In Constant Sorrow

IN CONSTANT SORROW

I want nothing to do with you
I want nothing to do with this
I don’t got anymore patience 
I hate you and I hate this 
I hate that and I hate them 
I hate everything within
The line i draw be to thin
Hatred creep up to my chin

I hate you 
I hate him
I hate her 
I hate everyone 
Fuck up out my face 
Before I start deleting everyone
I don’t got no place
For yo fake ass tryna put me on 
Girl you such a waste
The way you tryna turn me on 
I hate you 
I hate him 
I hate her
I hate everyone
Fuck up out my face
Can’t you see I wanna be alone
I don’t got no place
For these bitches blowin up my phone
Girl you such a waste
What the hell you doin in my home

I want nothing to do with you
I want nothing to do with this
I don’t got anymore patience 
I hate you and I hate this 
I hate that and I hate them 
I hate everything within
The line i draw be to thin
Hatred creep up to my chin

FREE DL

I HATE . . .

Highway Desperado

Whose Rearview

02Sunset Brothers - Everybodys Free.

Boomtown (Treaty Oak)

Pac Ave

The Grim Weeper

Tell Me Why

Und der Wind pfeift

Dimitri Vegas and Like Mike vs Ummet Ozcan - The Hum (Gritty Festival Trap Remix)
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The Chainsmokers - Let You Go (Gritty Remix )
https://soundcloud.com/grittykidmusic/the-chainsmokers-let-you-go-gritty-kid-remix

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Dimitri Vegas and Like Mike vs Ummet Ozcan - The Hum (Gritty Festival Trap Remix)

Some moments never fade.

Still Smells Like June is a memory in denim and sunlight — a song about old ticket stubs, borrowed spoons, and the kind of summer you still carry in your clothes.

Turn it up, close your eyes, and smell the season again.

Manche Momente verblassen nie.

Still Smells Like June ist eine Erinnerung in Jeans und Sonnenlicht – ein Song über alte Kinokarten, geliehene Löffel und einen Sommer, der immer noch in deiner Jacke steckt.

Laut aufdrehen, Augen schließen – und der Juni ist wieder da.

Still Smells Like June

Late September Heart is a quiet story of almosts — the words not said, the looks held a second too long, the song left hanging in the air. Set against a backdrop of worn leather booths and late-night jukebox hum, this track leans into a slow-burning country-blues feel. It’s the kind of song that doesn’t raise its voice, but lingers like smoke — steady, honest, and full of the things we don’t say. For nights when something stirs, even in silence. For what almost was.

Late September Heart erzählt leise von allem, was fast passiert wäre – Worte, die in der Kehle stecken bleiben, Blicke, die zu lange halten, ein Song, der in der Luft hängen bleibt. Der Sound: rau und warm, wie eine Jukebox in einem Diner kurz vor Feierabend. Country-Blues in seiner stillsten Form – ehrlich, zurückgenommen, und voller unausgesprochener Dinge. Für Nächte, in denen etwas bleibt. Auch wenn nichts geschieht.

Late September Heart

No One Tells You When It Starts is about the kind of change that doesn’t make a sound. A street corner, a faded memory, a version of yourself that never quite arrived — this is a story told in fragments. It’s not about the big moments, but the quiet unraveling of what once felt permanent. Some things slip away without warning. And some words stay stuck inside, long after it’s too late to say them.



No One Tells You When It Starts erzählt von den Veränderungen, die still passieren. Eine Straßenecke, eine Erinnerung, eine Version von dir selbst, die nie ganz geworden ist – dieser Song spricht von Momenten, die niemand bemerkt, und doch alles verändern. Nicht das Große, sondern das leise Verschwinden steht im Mittelpunkt. Manches geht, bevor man es merkt. Und manches bleibt ungesagt, bis es zu spät ist.


No one tells you when it starts

Berlin is not a love song.
It’s a memory you can’t hold,
a spark that burned too fast,
a night that felt more real than most days.

This track captures the wild pulse of a moment —
when someone walks into your life like a storm
and leaves before the sky clears.

You were Berlin.
Not the city. The feeling.


Berlin ist kein Lovesong.
Es ist eine Erinnerung, die man nicht festhalten kann,
ein Funke, der zu schnell verglüht,
eine Nacht, die echter war als viele Tage.

Dieser Track fängt den rohen Puls eines Moments ein –
wenn jemand wie ein Sturm ins Leben rauscht
und wieder verschwindet, bevor der Himmel aufreißt.

Du warst Berlin.
Nicht die Stadt. Das Gefühl.

LYRICS

Berlin

You said, “Don’t ask me where I’m from”
Lit a smoke and bit your thumb
Your laugh was sharp, your eyes were wired
A fuse that never once got tired

You moved like you were on parole
Stole my drink, then stole my soul
Said, “This night’s got teeth, don’t blink”
And vanished faster than I think

You were Berlin
Not the city, but the sin
Midnight cigarette grin
Chaos under my skin
You were Berlin
No beginning, no win
Just a storm I ran into
And hoped would never end

We broke a lock to climb a roof
Screamed the stars like it was proof
That some things shine when they’re about to fall
And some don’t need a name at all

Your boots kicked sparks, your voice cut air
You kissed like truth, but didn’t care
Said, “Nothing’s real that lasts too long”
Then vanished in a fading song

You were Berlin
Not the skyline, but the spin
A dare wrapped in a hymn
No mercy, only grin
You were Berlin
No reason, no skin
Just a heat that pulled me in
And left me high as sin

And if you vanish in the morning—
Then Berlin was real for a night

Berlin

„17“ – eine Sommererinnerung, die kleben bleibt.
Tom Berger erzählt in seinem Song von diesem einen Moment, in dem alles kippen kann – der Blick, das Lächeln, der Satz, den man doch noch sagt.
Eine Geschichte über junge Liebe, flirrende Hitze und den Mut, einfach loszulaufen – ohne Plan, ohne Gepäck, aber mit Herzklopfen.
Berlin im Hintergrund, die Zukunft vor der Brust – und siebzehn, für immer siebzehn.


“17” – a summer memory that sticks to your skin.
Tom Berger tells the story of that one moment when everything can shift – the glance, the smile, the words you finally say.
A song about young love, heat in the air, and the courage to just leave – no plan, no baggage, just a heartbeat and a girl.
Berlin in the background, the future in your chest – and seventeen, forever seventeen.

Siebzehn

“No Regrets” is a nostalgic, poetic song that captures the fleeting beauty of youthful freedom and reckless love. With vivid imagery and heartfelt storytelling, Lara Wolff looks back at moments that were never meant to last—but still mattered deeply. The lyrics celebrate imperfection, spontaneity, and the kind of nights that leave echoes in our memory. It’s not about what lasted—it’s about what felt real. No regrets.

„No Regrets“ ist ein nostalgischer, poetischer Song über die flüchtige Schönheit jugendlicher Freiheit und unvernünftiger Liebe. Mit starken Bildern und ehrlichem Storytelling blickt Lara Wolff auf Momente zurück, die nie für die Ewigkeit gedacht waren – aber trotzdem viel bedeuteten. Die Lyrics feiern das Unperfekte, das Spontane, die Nächte, die in Erinnerung bleiben. Es geht nicht darum, was blieb – sondern was sich echt anfühlte. Keine Reue.

No Regrets

“The Cold Don’t Lie” is a dust-covered journey through backroads, motel rooms, and quiet regrets. With razor-sharp lines like “Steerin’ by feel, not direction” and “The cold don’t lie like the heat you gave,” this song captures the raw honesty of running from a past that still burns. It’s not a love song—it’s what comes after. A soundtrack for anyone who’s ever driven just to forget.

„The Cold Don’t Lie“ ist ein staubiger Trip durch Hinterland, Motels und unausgesprochene Abschiede. Mit Zeilen wie „Steerin’ by feel, not direction“ und „The cold don’t lie like the heat you gave“ erzählt der Song von der Klarheit nach dem Sturm – wenn man weiterzieht, nicht aus Freiheit, sondern weil es keine Wahrheit mehr gibt, die bleibt. Kein Liebeslied – sondern das, was danach kommt.

The Cold Don't Lie

“Freefall” is a lyrical dive into that moment when love hits unexpectedly and turns your world upside down. With poetic lines and vivid imagery, the song captures the feeling of letting go—of pride, of control, of the past—and falling headfirst into something real. It’s about the first kiss that stops time, the silent pull of connection, and the beauty of emotional surrender. A story of flickers instead of fireworks, and quiet truths that shake the sky.
Wrapped in a slow-burning mix of country rock and modern pop.

„Freefall“ erzählt in poetischen Bildern von dem Moment, in dem die Liebe plötzlich einschlägt und alles verändert. Der Text beschreibt, wie man sich fallen lässt – ohne Plan, ohne Netz, ohne Stolz – und einfach zulässt, was echt ist. Es geht um den ersten Kuss, der die Zeit anhält, um das leise Ziehen statt eines lauten Knalls, um eine Verbindung, die stärker ist als Worte. Ein Song über das Loslassen, das Flimmern, und eine Welt, die sich plötzlich dreht.
Country-Rock trifft auf modernen Pop.

Freefall

“When Pigs Fly” ist ein bittersüßer Abgesang auf all die großen Versprechen, die nie gehalten wurden – und eine Hymne an alle, die daraus gelernt haben. Mit bissigem Witz, poetischer Schärfe und einem Refrain, der bleibt, dreht sich der Song um die Kunst, loszulassen und trotzdem gerade zu stehen.

Disco-Pop trifft Blues-Rock – zwischen Tanzfläche und staubiger Veranda wird hier Klartext gesungen.


“When Pigs Fly” is a bittersweet anthem for anyone who’s been burned and came out smarter. With razor-sharp wit, poetic flair, and a hook that sticks, the song calls out empty promises and walks away with pride.

Disco-pop meets blues-rock – this is straight talk between the dance floor and a dusty front porch.

When Pigs Fly

With its driving groove, gritty guitar riffs, and bold, swaggering energy, “Wild Honey” is an upbeat road anthem that hits like open windows and fast highways. Lara Wolff’s raw, smoky voice delivers the punch — part Southern soul, part rock’n’roll rebel.

The song crackles with confidence and fire, mixing emotional grit with playful bravado. She’s not here to be tamed — she’s here to leave a mark. Wild Honey is the taste of freedom, the rush of running wild, and the soundtrack to your next escape.

„Wild Honey“ klingt wie Aufbruch: ein treibender Beat, raue Gitarren und dieser unverschämt lässige Drive. Lara Wolffs Stimme – tief, kratzig, mit Southern-Flair – bringt genau das, was man auf der Flucht nach vorn hören will.

Der Song verbindet Soul und Rock mit einer Prise Rebellion – kraftvoll, verspielt, elektrisierend. Wild Honey ist kein Halt, sondern ein Startsignal. Der Soundtrack für Nächte ohne Plan. Für alle, die nicht bleiben – aber Eindruck hinterlassen.


Wild Honey

He said, “You look like trouble”
I said, “Only when I’m bored”
Dropped my coat like a curtain
And danced across the floor
He wore cologne like a warning
And a smile too sharp to trust
But I’ve never been good at listening
To anything but lust

I’m wild honey
Sticky hands and a crooked laugh
One slow dance and a sudden crash
No promises made, no need to explain
Just boots on fire in the midnight rain
I’m wild honey
Sweet then gone
I burn too fast to hold too long

I’ve kissed boys in backrooms
And girls who never stayed
Left my name on napkins
That the rain just washed away
I love like lightning
Flash, then gone
But the ones who get too close
Still feel me when I’m gone

I’m wild honey
I’m wild honey
Wasted breath and a song half-sung
Smoke in my hair and fire on my tongue
Don’t ask me to stay, I’m already flame
Can’t tame a storm without losing the rain
I’m wild honey
No fence, no chain
Just a taste you won’t forget again

And if you see me by the river
With a look that says I’ve won
Don’t ask me where I’m going
Just know I’m never done

I’m wild honey
Your favorite mistake
The dream you didn’t mean to wake
Sweet then gone
Gone like the night
Still buzzing in your blood by light
I’m wild honey


Wild Honey

Pine & Snow is a quiet, poetic ballad about an old man and the woman he never forgot. Now entirely alone in his city, he looks back on the winter they shared — a time of pine-scented scarves, snow-covered streets, and a love he left behind. He took a different road, chasing something louder, brighter — and lost her in the process. In the stillness of memory, he carries her in silence. Pine & Snow tells the story of a life shaped by one quiet decision at a crossroads, where he turned away from the one thing that felt real.

Pine & Snow ist eine leise, poetische Ballade über einen alten Mann und die Frau, die er nie vergessen hat. Mittlerweile ganz allein in seiner Stadt blickt er zurück auf den Winter, den sie einst teilten – mit dem Duft von Kiefern, tanzendem Schnee und einer Liebe, die er hinter sich ließ. Damals bog er an einer Kreuzung falsch ab, auf der Suche nach etwas Lauterem, Hellerem – und verlor dabei das, was echt war. Heute lebt sie weiter in seiner Erinnerung, in seinem Schweigen. Pine & Snow erzählt von einem Leben, das durch eine leise Entscheidung geprägt wurde – und von einer verpassten Chance, die nie ganz vergeht.

Pine and Snow

He waits at the bench by the corner store
Same coat, same shoes, same view of the floor
Hands like maps that lost their way
Eyes on clouds he used to chase

They say he’s no one, just passing through
Just one more ghost the city grew
But he holds a picture no one sees
Tucked behind his old IDs

She was wild like the northern sea
Laughed through the wind like it set her free
He never told the world her name
But he still hears her voice in the pouring rain
…like the sea that doesn’t rest
She was wind, and pine, and breath
He told no one
But his silence still carries her song

She wore a scarf that smelled of pine
They danced through snow and borrowed time
Then he left to chase a louder light
And she stayed - where the stars burned white

Now no one calls, and no one asks
He’s learned to speak through smaller tasks
Like folding napkins at Café Lorraine
Or counting buses in the rain

She was real, more real than this
More than the soup, the chair, the mist
He never told the world her name
But her shadow still waits by the morning train
…like the sea that doesn’t rest
She was wind, and pine, and breath
He told no one

So if you see him stare too long
At something gone, at a silent song
He’s not lost, not quite unseen
He’s just watching where she’s been

Pine & Snow

“I Write You A Song” turns late-night city chaos into sharp, streetwise storytelling. Every line paints the flicker of neon, the slam of rain on glass, and the calm of a pen moving steady while the world spins fast. It’s a personal message written in the middle of the noise – direct, unpolished, and meant for one pair of ears.

„I Write You A Song“ verwandelt das nächtliche Chaos der Stadt in scharfkantiges, selbstbewusstes Storytelling. Jede Zeile malt das Flackern von Neonlichtern, das Prasseln von Regen auf Glas und die Ruhe einer gleichmäßig geführten Feder, während draußen alles rotiert. Eine persönliche Botschaft, mitten im Lärm geschrieben – direkt, ungefiltert und nur für ein einziges Paar Ohren bestimmt.

I Write You A Song

When the street’s all sirens, when the sky turns red
And TV’s shoutin’ like it lost its head
I find a corner where the light runs low
Let the noise fade out and the ink just flow

The world’s on fire, but my hands stay calm
Every spark outside just feeds this charm

I write you a song
When the walls feel thin and the night feels long
It’s not for the world, just meant for your ear
A small piece of forever that says you were here
I write you a song

When the clock hands stumble and the night drifts slow
And the rain taps glass like it wants to know
I keep a page with a coffee ring
Where the words crawl out and the truth takes wing

The storm blows harder, I stand right here
With the words I’ve kept for another year

I write you a song
When the walls feel thin and the night feels long
I’ll trade all the noise for a melody true
And I’ll sing every line ‘til it reaches you
I write you a song

It’s not a rescue, it’s not a plan
It’s just my way to take your hand
While the city spins and the lights all shake
We’ve got a world they can’t overtake

I write you a song
When the walls feel thin and the night feels long
I carve words in rhythm, I wrap them in rhyme
And I hope they’ll still matter in some other time
I write you a song

When the street’s all sirens and the sky turns red
I write you a song, and stay in my melody instead


I Write You A Song

„Berlin“ fängt die Nächte einer Stadt ein, die nie zur Ruhe kommt. Doch hinter den Bildern von Asphalt, Regen und Neon liegt eine andere Geschichte – die Erinnerung an jemanden, der in all dem Lärm nicht verschwindet.

“Berlin” captures the nights of a city that never sleeps. Yet beneath the images of asphalt, rain, and neon lies another story – the memory of someone who lingers, even when everything else fades into noise.

Berlin

Der Asphalt dampft, noch warm vom Tag
Ein Taxi stottert, der Beifahrer klagt
Die Ampeln blinken ohne Sinn
Und ich mittendrin
Mittendrin

Berlin
Du alte müde Braut
Dein Kleid ist grau
Dein Herz zu laut

Ein Graffiti flüstert „Bleib noch hier“
Und wie immer träum ich nur von dir

Ein Mädchen schreit ins Telefon
„Wo bleibst du Alter? Ich warte schon!“

Der Mond funkelt silbern und voll
Ein Penner meint: „Ick find dit toll“
Die Sterne schaun runter, auf all den Dreck
Zwei Polizisten sehen weg
Sehen einfach weg

Ein Raver stolpert, lacht und fällt
Und ich denk nur „So is die Welt“

Berlin
Du schräge alte Stadt
Dein Atem kalt
Ich hab dich satt

Ziemlich einsam, morgens um vier
Und immer träum ich nur von dir

Die Laterne flackert wie mein Kopf
Ne Katze jagt im Hinterhof
Die Nacht tropft langsam, schwarz und schwer
Und ich will´s nicht mehr
Ich will nicht mehr

Der Club spuckt Menschen aus wie Müll
Die Stadt bleibt durstig, niemals still
Der Regen spült die Farben fort
Mir fehlt dein Lachen
Nur ein Wort…

Berlin
Du abgefuckter Clown
Dein Lachen hohl
Dein Make-up braun

Im Späti noch ein letztes Bier
Und immer träum ich nur von dir

Ein Junge klaut am Tresen ein Mars
Und ich starr in mein Glas
Starr in mein Glas…


“It Is What It Is” is a quiet, poetic reflection on loss, acceptance, and moving on.
Set to a laid-back Americana groove, the song tells a story of betrayal and resilience – without bitterness, without drama.
Just the river rolling, the wind in your hair, and the feeling that sometimes… that’s enough.

“It Is What It Is” ist ein ruhiger, poetischer Song über Verlust, Akzeptanz und das Weitergehen.
Getragen von einem entspannten Americana-Sound erzählt er von Enttäuschung und innerer Stärke – ohne Groll, ohne Drama.
Nur der Fluss, der weiterfließt, der Wind im Haar und das Gefühl: Manchmal ist das einfach genug.

It is what it is

I passed by the diner where we used to sit
Two cups on the counter, both losing their heat
Meanwhile the silence feels like a friend
It reminds me some roads just come to an end

It is what it is
No need to pretend
The river keeps rolling around every bend
I don’t owe the past
I don’t fear what I miss
I’m here, I’m alive
It is what it is

I found Betty‘s note folded under the bed
Said she loved me once, then left instead
Ran with a friend I thought I could trust
But the past is the past
And it crumbles to dust

It is what it is
No need to pretend
The river keeps rolling around every bend
I don’t owe the past
It don’t owe me a kiss
I’m here, I’m alive
It is what it is

There’s wind in my hair, the road feels clean
I’m done chasing ghosts, done asking what it means
No shadows behind me, no need to look back
Just the hum of silence, steady and black

It is what it is
I’ve got no regrets
The river keeps rolling, no signs, no threats
No pressure, no chains
No moment I miss
I’m home in myself
It is what it is


It is what it is

Saturday Night is a song about those fleeting moments when the world feels wide open and nothing else matters. Two strangers meet, sparks fly in the most unlikely places, and the city itself becomes part of the story. It’s messy and magical, full of neon light, laughter, and the kind of freedom that only belongs to Saturday night. With vivid imagery and a driving, melodic flow, the song captures the thrill of living in the moment—whether it fades or stays, it’s unforgettable.

Saturday Night erzählt von den flüchtigen Augenblicken, in denen sich die Welt unendlich anfühlt und alles möglich scheint. Zwei Fremde treffen sich, Funken sprühen an den unwahrscheinlichsten Orten, und die Stadt selbst wird Teil der Geschichte. Chaotisch und magisch zugleich, voller Neonlicht, Lachen und dieser besonderen Freiheit, die nur der Samstagabend kennt. Mit eindringlichen Bildern und einem treibenden, melodischen Fluss fängt der Song das Gefühl ein, im Moment zu leben – ob er vergeht oder bleibt, unvergesslich ist er in jedem Fall.

Saturday Night

You showed up in that thrift store tee
Spilled your drink and winked at me
The jukebox played some broken tune
But somehow it still felt like June

You danced like rules had lost their grip
Took my hand and bit your lip
The floor was sticky, time was fast
But I could feel the moment last

Saturday night, and the world’s off track
Hearts run wild, no turning back
We’re sparks in a soda can
Strangers clapping, don’t give a damn

You said, “Let’s leave before it ends”
We ran through puddles, not quite friends
A streetlight blinked, a siren sang
Your laugh cut through like guitar twang

Saturday night, with a rebel grin
You stole my hat, I let you win
The city’s buzzing, so are we
On sidewalks lit like silver sea

It wasn’t love, not yet, not quite
But something clicked in neon light
You said, “Let’s never do this right”
And I said, “Only Saturday night”

Saturday night, no maps, no guide
You leaned in close, I didn’t hide
We’re mess and magic, caught mid-flight
Who needs forever on a Saturday night?

Maybe it fades, or maybe it stays
But something woke up in the haze
Saturday night, you turned and smiled
And I forgot the world a while


Saturday Night

Wickey Wickey Wonderland

Old Boots, New Dirt

Tonight Looks Good on You

Wide Open

The Truth

From A Room: Volume 1

Death Row

Lil Peep Part One

lil peep - High School

Save Me

FIRST SINGLE OFF THE KILL YOURSELF PART XX: THE INFINITY SAGA

[VERSE 1: LIL CHOPPA]

stay in the cut on the northside
hollowpoints
trigger fingers on my fucking .45
demons rising the crypt
i snort me a fat line
never gave a fuck
grew up out the mud
then i pop the trunk
grew up with the fucking robbers
always kept the mask on
motherfuckers gonna die if we take the mask off
$UICIDE how i ride bitch
$carecrow the walking shadow
Mozart with no piano
kill when i'm sleepy hollow
that mystic motherfucker that's addicted to prescriptions
xanax for the panic
mental problems you can add in
multi million owned business
you just signed a deal, bruh?
3 years passed
still broke?
and you ain't paid up
dollars i ain't touched yet
burn it for the fuck of it
infamous lunatic
you?
you just suck dick
cut throat with the deathwish
raised where the savage lives
straight out the death pit
to keep alive the triple six

[VERSE II: YUNG MUTT]

Ruby such a Misfit
Hollywood babylon can't resist it
Fuck a cop bitch
I'm ducking all these piglets
7th ward be my motherfucking district
Yeah I still got my motherfucking wrist slit
Bleeding like a pissed bitch
Scheming I'ma hit licks after licking hits of acid in her fucking split lips
Wig split just a fucking tidbit
Dick itch from ingesting pill bits
Blue bill sick of snorting powder
I'ma ditch this hunnid for 5 twentys
TSA keep testing my money
Now ima dip quick
Find me a thick bitch
Tit gripped
Tip gripped
Dick spit in her thick hips
Fuck
Fuck with me bitch I'm a-fucking-ddicted
And I don't really give a fuck what it is
Told you already that Ruby can't resist it
Big clip to my head watch that shit drip

It is what it is

BRO