Vinny Crook$ - Solitude lyrics

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Vinny Crook$ - Solitude lyrics

[Prod. By Donato Beats] (Verse 1) Them concrete jungles breed militants Spit for the Ritalin regiment, riches I'm in the pursuit Blind prospects in our living, need patience and virtue If nobody gone feel this, they might as well k** me Bumpin BG's fourth album as a kid I wanted grilling In the lab trying to be Hov, I was big dreaming Handed a wad of Jokers when my cards was dealing My scars concealing, cause some wounds are unappealing Codeining, pro leaning, to cope with my demons My uncles peddled coke with blood money in pimps semen Snoozing with a baby bottle full of booze in a booster Hearing lukewarm lullabies of Marvin that i'm used to I've been leaving to visit my fam for a while Twin Cities where i'm from but LA my second town Underground airplay I do it for Had a lucid dream of being the goat then I comatose (Hook) I don't f** with y'all, f** you, f** you, and f** you I don't f** with y'all, f** you, f** you, and f** you I don't f** with y'all, f** you, f** you, and f** you I don't need nothing at all, but a moment of solitude Maybe a potion of brew, maybe a bad b**h or two Three or four grams of kush, and my music to ride to (Verse 2) We hate people that love us, and love people that hate us How could this world recover, if God took a hiatus These snakes on our ankles they trying to sprain us Double cross em, go ape sh**, thats an ultimatum Take a trip on this bizarre ride, shouts to Pharcyde Spread my Backwoods wide, and jump on cloud nine It's hypnotizing inspiration, get high with my installation With no final destination, I got goldmines in my bones You gone wish I was never gone, recite when I write these wrongs You gone admit I was right you was wrong, modern day Psalms Parlay next to bombs that detonate beside your pro's and cons My cousin sobbing in the kitchen over setbacks Her baby daddy's getting rubs on his back from a wetback He won't hit the grind but kick back and smoke his Black Split his daughters similac, to cop new linen on his back It's all about the dough that your fake friends wanna gather It's all about the hoes, that your girl can't fathom It's all about the clothes, that your moms can't answer Living the scenes of those movies, actors with Choppers singing like operas, coming around like Phantoms I got steam outta my ears, and i'm beasting all of my peers Ain't no fear pump in my blood, spreading love in my hood The aroma of victory is getting to me and I wanna taste it How can I run from the devil if I ain't never faced him