Francois Dillinger - Shoulder Kiss lyrics

[Verse: Francois Dillinger] Ink spilling in my notebook, it's blood for the pain Writing these raps, trying to bring about some change So f** a sleeve, i'll pour my heart out on this page These verses are my life I live them out everyday Look, talk that bullsh** i'll cut you off like Kendrick Cause everybody knows I pull strings like Jimi Hendrix The devil's advocate, but the Lord's angel If I'm employed by both, it's hard to remain faithful See I can feed you food for thought. Here, here's a plateful But you can't stomach that sh** cause the truth's so spiteful At times I feel like Cobain, wanna grab the riffle But on top of my head is that motherf**ing lightbulb Reminding me of my sister, saying I can't leave her So I just punch a whole in the wall & burn that reefer Monsters in my head I wanna k** 'em with a bullet & since I can't do that I have to put up with their bullsh** Rest In Peace to my motherf**ing father Even tough after he f**ed my mother he couldn't be bothered I'm Francois now, the whole enchilada They thought the devil walked way I was rocking that Prada They say money talks & you ain't saying nada Tryna k** me i'll show you the whole die hard saga I'm Bruce Willis on the beat, blowing sh** up Spit the raw truth, they candy coat they sh** up Told my lil' sister, "keep your chin up" At the age of 11 she's already seen enough The sh** i've seen, would make Stevie wonder Cause the sh** i've seen makes me envy Stevie Wonder It's kinda f**ed up how it all turns out When everybody's left you with your spirit burnt out All my blood sweat & tears My pain through out the years Now I'm standing face to face with my fears Fresh fade, v neck, chinos with some loafers Spliff & a double cup, I'm starting to lose my focus bu*t naked women, sniffing up some co*ka You ain't affiliated, you just rubbing shoulders Cups in both hands I'm f**ing ambidextrous Women in abundance, we don't let 'em stress up Goons in the back incase some n***as test us But they don't usually, they ain't got the testies f** these n***as, tryna be my besties Not a pretty n***a but b**hes think I'm s**y Well dressed n***a, GQ type of dude Brim low, shades on, I'm tryna keep my cool But, touch my fam & i'll murder ya' We be straight up in your house like the furniture Over 100 degrees man i'll furnace ya My ear's to the streets, but I ain't heard of ya Frankie ..