3od, Saliva Grey - In The Pocket Lyrics

Sick and tired
Sick and tired
Rather get higher than retire
Lift me up to my desire
Take a sip
Then flick the lighter
I don't really give no fucks
Never been a friend to the luck
Turnaround
Pound it down
Hit the mic harder than a brick truck
If you try to be a bitch
Guess I'm gonna get my fucking dick sucked
What did you think
I'd give up in the blink of an eye
On the brink of my high
You hating my skills
Bring fourth your demise
Don't be surprised
When we leave you behind
You see
Talent ain't a thing in this game
Wait for the decline
Line a lacking whack ass rappers
Ninety-nine won't see what happens
Waiting for that rainy day
Clouds of grey
Saliva rolling up the jay
Pay the toll
Or get the fuck out the way bitch
Feeling my knuckles they rough
I been beating my chest
The sweat is pooling
The masses have known of one
Gather the heathens
We'll shake em to the core
Pick up all the pieces
Put em in our pockets
Fill em up
Now fill em up until they pour
We aren't the enemy
Just feeding off the scraps you throw to us
Like a flea we keep on coming back
Scratching irritating
Crawling on your skin
Lay the money down
Paid off with our sin
No more need to frown
The crows are here to take the crown
3OD wit Sally G
Got blood up in our eyes
Feeling bleak
Come sever me
This world I can't abide
Never really gave a fuck about them plays or likes
I see all you fuckers pocket watching
Fuck up out my life
I'm gon' fly wit the crows
We gon' ride wit them poles
We survive off them bones
Sippin' blood out the chrome
I gut a motherfucker
Boutta turn em' into puddle
'Til they whole fucking soul underneath of me
I pull up pull the trigger
Make yo body be the dinner
That I feed to the crows
Now they bout to feast
Ahh
Don't bite the hand that feed
Let this talent be a waste
I'm cursed
Just a burden on the industry
Why can't you see
Im melting in self loathing
Self entitled sinfulness
I'm just another soul on the road
To the existential prophecy
I met the Devil on the internet
And he promised me
A life I may not live
But what the hell
Give a shot
What do I got
Not a lot of thought given
Signed on the dotted line
Can I press rewind

Sick and tired
Sick and tired
Rather get higher than retire
Lift me up to my desire
Take a sip
Then flick the lighter
I don't really give no fucks
Never been a friend to the luck
Turnaround
Pound it down
Hit the mic harder than a brick truck
If you try to be a bitch
Guess I'm gonna get my fucking dick sucked
What did you think
I'd give up in the blink of an eye
On the brink of my high
You hating my skills
Bring fourth your demise
Don't be surprised
When we leave you behind
You see
Talent ain't a thing in this game
Wait for the decline
Line a lacking whack ass rappers
Ninety-nine won't see what happens
Waiting for that rainy day
Clouds of grey
Saliva rolling up the jay
Pay the toll
Or get the fuck out the way bitch
Feeling my knuckles they rough
I been beating my chest
The sweat is pooling
The masses have known of one
Gather the heathens
We'll shake em to the core
Pick up all the pieces
Put em in our pockets
Fill em up
Now fill em up until they pour
We aren't the enemy
Just feeding off the scraps you throw to us
Like a flea we keep on coming back
Scratching irritating
Crawling on your skin
Lay the money down
Paid off with our sin
No more need to frown
The crows are here to take the crown
3OD wit Sally G
Got blood up in our eyes
Feeling bleak
Come sever me
This world I can't abide
Never really gave a fuck about them plays or likes
I see all you fuckers pocket watching
Fuck up out my life
I'm gon' fly wit the crows
We gon' ride wit them poles
We survive off them bones
Sippin' blood out the chrome
I gut a motherfucker
Boutta turn em' into puddle
'Til they whole fucking soul underneath of me
I pull up pull the trigger
Make yo body be the dinner
That I feed to the crows
Now they bout to feast
Ahh
Don't bite the hand that feed
Let this talent be a waste
I'm cursed
Just a burden on the industry
Why can't you see
Im melting in self loathing
Self entitled sinfulness
I'm just another soul on the road
To the existential prophecy
I met the Devil on the internet
And he promised me
A life I may not live
But what the hell
Give a shot
What do I got
Not a lot of thought given
Signed on the dotted line
Can I press rewind