A-F-R-O - A Lotta Dark Overtones lyrics

Published

0 2037 0

A-F-R-O - A Lotta Dark Overtones lyrics

[Verse 1: A-F-R-O] I've been angry with a possible plan I oughta be the hardest n***a With a comment that'll holla your stance Selling coke, buy a pound or a gram I'll leave a n***a standing With his hand and his whole foot in his a** A-F-R-O isn't a possible man I'll peel your metacarpals off with Your sawed-off shot at a glance Cause fright, I'm the darkness of man Sane of Lucifer angels ranging from One God in advance I'm the one to solve your problems And plans, f** you up in Your kitchen and split your wig With a pot or a pan, you be f**ing with The wrongest of man, I'm causing Horror like I was the father of Michael Myers all in your a** Flawless victory, I'm calling command I'm so charismatic I can rob you with an Empty garbage bag, the epitome I'm calling you trash, you a h*mophobe But you like more dick all in your a** n***a [Verse 2: A-F-R-O] I profound every lyric you rhyme Dark brown, black version Send your wack a** back in your time Blackness, what I have to combine, wrap My rap around your neck, strangulate Till no cardiovascular signs Suicidal persistence of mine Thinkin' "Now damn A-F-R-O, that's The competition of mine?" I'll preach you like a reverend in this Rhyme, knock you off the living list You reach heaven, tell Father I said "Hi" My writing utensil bled in this rhyme I'm the type to use a knife and bleed You slowly instead of a 9 Methamphetamines in the blood stream Rise, agree that I've been steadily in The jungle with a roar of a lion You absorbing the violence, you sure While one boring a tyrant, this Ain't my phallic symbol, giant like a Clone the size of Andre, dearly departed Definitively honored, defiled Underrated, no one can predict me Not even the Mayans [Verse 3: A-F-R-O] A hellish devil with Satan's brigade I make it tougher on an expert level Fighting through the fire and flames I ignite your entire domain I perspire within the lighter and find Myself higher than A's, don't try to Test me with with caliber aim, I'm Easthood, I shoot revolvers that can put Mr. Eastwood to shame, I'm entirely Riding the train tracks despite the Fact that my brain think faster than a Professor can, I'm the horrible ape Who'll force and rape you, I'm the lord And savior, born and raised, engaged With a sword and sabre, my course is Angel, but the intercourse I force is Playful, I'll mourn an angel, but I'm More a pain, endorse the hatred A vigilante, slimy salami tucked in My pant jeans, I'll leave a run and go For [?], out of breath, doubtful mess I oppress, the rhymes I dress, finding Pens and writing with them