Hi-Fi lyrics

[Verse]
I slide by, coming at ya in Hi-Fi (what up?!)
Tryna see if you pussies got nine lives (pull up!)
Every time I don't feast, I fine dine turn ya
Corpse to bread, turn ya blood into wine
Mr. Disinfected heart pumping garbage, still clogging my veins
I remember nights of loneliness and day full of pain
With the shadows, I would battle till I hemorrhage my brain
Synthetic blunts had me daze for days
I would succ*mb to my weakness, crazed from the drinking
Locked in a mode, no control, overthinking
Weight up on my shoulder, cannot carry it no more
Ears on mute and my eyes on slow-mo

[Chorus]
You wouldn't f*ck with the one they call
You wouldn't f*ck with the one they call
Bones, the god of the microphone
Straight out the 517 zone
You wouldn't f*ck with the one they call
You wouldn't f*ck with the one they call
Bones, the god of the microphone
Straight out the 517 zone

[Interlude]
You want me to keep going?
Alright
[Outro]
So I was chilling on the corner, and what else?
I was rolling up a blunt, and what else?
Said I was chilling on the corner, and what else?
Said I was rolling up a blunt, and what else?
Bones, the god of the microphone