Illmac - HOODIE SEASON lyrics

{chorus: illmac} This feel like hoodie season Rain clouds and bullets squeezing Crooked police dying, good we even Hunting pigs, i’m a wolf in sheepskin This heart on my sleeve cold, it’s hoodie season Used to pick a switch ‘fore i took a beating Now if we get the stick it ain’t what you thinking Yeah, this feel like hoodie season This heart on my sleeve cold {verse 1: fredo} It’s not a hobby how i stunt Shottie with the pump karate chop the front Jimmy hoffa’s body in the trunk, riding ‘round Right by ya’ clique, it’s silent sounds I ain’t hear sh*t, can’t even tell ‘em to quiet down ‘cause it’s just, me talking at times at night i feel i’m sleepwalking Rotten to thе core if adam eavesdropping It’s hoodiе season I’m in la i’m from the bay so i’m cookie-seeking Think about things i done ‘cause you couldn’t even You could rest assured, if you put my content under pressure i’ma let it burst We first, next to second third The good bison in the session, full head of fur Any who test me will be addressed like the gettysburg Chase got the beat on pirellis, just hear the engine purr They can’t find me, late ‘90s bubble lex’ and swerve Classic, cannot be no average Smoke a pound of elbow, drop the form like randy savage Algae-grower everywhere, i really didn’t plan it Green hairs on the tree it look like captain planet It’s the pot look, we just kill the game ‘cause we on fire This is not luck, the f-bomber, back up in this b*tch like i forgot something Get a sock-lock, off the top bunk The hanzo cut you in half and it look like you ain’t got touched Beauty is skin-deep so i dig deeper I put my hood on, the grim reaper It’s hoodie season {chorus: illmac} This feel like hoodie season Rain clouds and bullets squeezing Crooked police dying, good we even Hunting pigs, i’m a wolf in sheepskin This heart on my sleeve cold, it’s hoodie season Used to pick a switch ‘fore i took a beating Now if we get the stick it ain’t what you thinking Yeah, this feel like hoodie season This heart on my sleeve cold {verse 2: illmac} Scarlet moon samurai, rusty ax, satchel side Apache tribe, scalps in my hand, letting hatchets fly Ain’t been the same since my grandma died, had to cut some family ties (r.i.p.) Going through the motions like a pantomime That aside, hand to god, never ran and hide I’m outside, that’s the vibe, dying breed, i’m the last alive Nothing’s free, can’t oblige Tough as leather, tan ya’ hide Stand behind the cannon like i’m camera-shy, boy Now just imagine if i gave a fu*k They don’t believe in god until they standing in the way of one Warpaint, native tongues, rain dance, bang a drum Y’all came in the game to stunt, b*tch i came to hunt Double-barrel 12-gauge under the warm penalty Doublewood 12 balvenie, i pour vintages Tommy gun john dillinger, the flow like an aventador engine Y’all more akin to a four-cylinder Horror cinema, once a millennia i rise from the deep And storm villages, drink formaldehyde and feast On ya’ core innocence, seasoned wit’ salt and vinegar They see me, and blow conch shells to warn villagers I, bathe ‘em in blood and teach ‘em to swim Their feeling of grief’s my sense of victory, breathing it in Death in the air like leaves in the wind Tears roll down my cheek and end up freezing before reaching my chin {outro: illmac} This feel like hoodie season