Camoflauge Monk - Vivian at the Art Basel lyrics

[Chorus] Life is hard no doubt So there's a few things I'll make sure I do before I go out Kiss my mom on the cheek Because this one kid didn't get to make it home last week (rest in peace) Then some girls got trampled Then a cop k**ed a man just to make an example So before I take a stroll to creep I pray the Lord my soul to keep [Verse 1: Your Old Droog] The wicked Devil's stricken souls A lot of these rappers are disguised ball players and actors, pick and rolls You're going to own a mansion, the rawest crib you've seen Where TV screen come out the ceiling, that's a moving screen Trying not to catch a charge Smokin' in some restaurant garage with my entourage Though the cost of me bein' a star is [?] When I jet, I'ma get a month long marathon montage Squad should call me sarge Bunch of Extra P understudies, they want to be large Want to drive these foreign cars, mean that literally When I say they want to get out of Dodge, listen Dear God, can I get a fresh pair of earpods to bump this one joint by Y.O.D and the Flygod? Throw it on my iPod, with ample gigabytes First time we perform this at a gig they might Lose their minds, start a mosh pit Security will try to squash it Touch a fan's hand, he'll never wash it Only way you'll ever reach and that's boss sh** Cantankerous, the Anne Frank of this, live from Auschwitz Memories makin' me nauseous Dun made it out the harshest of hardships [Chorus] Life is hard no doubt So there's a few things I'll make sure I do before I go out Kiss my mom on the cheek Because this one kid didn't get to make it home last week (rest in peace) Then some girls got trampled Then a cop k**ed a man just to make an example So before I take a stroll to creep I pray the Lord my soul to keep [Verse 2: Westside Gunn] Aye yo I'm lookin' like Vivian Blake Fiend said he'd take it still wet, give me an eight Don't compare me to no n***a, n***a I'm me Chefs had the apron on bakin' a key I had to be [?] Givenchy tote with the Rottweiler hair FNH57 tucked in the black [?] Red Balenciaga with the black strings Coogi [?], Tom Ford left Still smell the blood on Giani's doorsteps I hope they fade away, on my third gold bottle to take the pain away Sell coke for a Cavalli coat Residue on the black Pusha T's for steppin' on the dope No Malice said pray for me I got some little n***as that'll come spray him for me Sip on the [?] 'bout to bust out on sunset Bossa nova lunch, gave the brick a Cobra Clutch Get you wacked for a [?] All red Ozweegos, at the art basel, black Desert Eagle [Chorus] Life is hard no doubt So there's a few things I'll make sure I do before I go out Kiss my mom on the cheek Because this one kid didn't get to make it home last week (rest in peace) Then some girls got trampled Then a cop k**ed a man just to make an example So before I take a stroll to [?] I pray the Lord my soul to keep