Текст песни
Daughter crying babymomma trying to take her home...
Sounds that never left my soul
Bullets whizzing by my ear. I was barely grown...
Sounds that never left my soul
Hennessy splashing the ground another homie gone...
Sounds that never left my soul
These the sounds that never left my soul
Black clouds, thunder and rain is the soundtrack
I specialize at aim at the crown raps
Choppers leave shirts looking sriracha
They kill for the dollar to move the commas to left
No honor no respect
For fresh shoes and sweats, noose to necks
Goons with tools on deck
That ah make Vladimir Putin sweat
Yellow tape hear the cries of grieving mothers
These the sounds of the gutter, gunshots and burning rubber
Dice hit the wall arguments turn to brawls
Hear the fire crackling, a body found burning in a car
Sounds in my soul, spoons turning in a jar
Melodies of mayhem, picture Slash working his guitar
This ain't for the simple minds if you purchasing the bars
Make you think like a convo with Kyrie Irving in the car
Business deals these days im purchasing cigars
Sounds of my soul surface these verses is my scars
Daughter crying babymomma trying to take her home...
Sounds that never left my soul
Bullets whizzing by my ear. I was barely grown...
Sounds that never left my soul
Hennessy splashing the ground another homie gone...
Sounds that never left my soul
These the sounds that never left my soul
That pain still lurking in my membrane
Traumatized a diagnostics might say I'm insane
Life takes it toll you pay one way or another
Disagreements with brother, legal battles with baby mothers
Felt smothered in the summer where heat was the regulator
Had a cannon (Canon) in the car like a private investigator
Lost homies the curb is getting drunk
Hennessy splatters, we hit the alley and bust the pumps
I've been in my fair share of battle and wars
Where opportunity knock and young niggas slamming the doors
Listen close you can hear the soul of a dopefiend screaming
See demons when they dreaming its clearly a deeper meaning
Deadly dialogue where the bullets be intervening
The pheromones be speaking in the voice of Morgan Freeman
Picture these sounds with ya ears and ya eyes
Hear the cries and maybe some whispers of ya demise