Monáde (Original) lyrics

by

Devon Hendryx



[DIDN'T TRANSCIBE FULLY, IF I DID ANYTHING WRONG (WHICH I DID), PLEASE CORRECT, THANKS] 

[Intro]
Alright, f*ck this sh*t
I don't f*cking care anymore, I'm going in
Yeah, yeah, okay let's go in now
Whoo!

[Verse 1]
Welcome to [?], b*tch
Population, zero
Use to the [?], high-fives to the heroes
[?] just stand in line for review (Alright, we— we're gonna keep that)
'Cause [?] and fizzled out, so I got this missile aimed at
[?], you didn't go left and now you're stuck in the middle route, with nothing to do (Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night, thank you)
Forty cops with forty Glocks and forty bars
[?] to guard both of my balls
I [?], I can't keep sane, need a pursuits (Hello is a doctor in? Doctor, are you black?)
This is the love equivalent of Auschwitz
I ain't love a hoe, I'm just in love with their tits
So, what's the point, what's your problem, son?
Hold on, I think I'll need a Twix (Mhm, oh sh*t, god damn)
Man, I got that [?] who said that she'll never leave me
She called me up on the curbs, "Devon, when can you meet me?"
She told me to say, "I love you"
I didn't, she ain't believe me
But I don't really care, I never see it [?]
b*tch I am nobody's legends, I'm flocking around with these peasants
Beggin' people for change to buy my way into heaven
They textin' me out the frame and I can't afford to be ignored
Drinking from the source, I put venom in the vanes of vain
Now [?] told me this a good stop
And now I'm stuck in this lane, so I switch up and reset game
Can I get on with no post sign to my name?
While I be your [?]
PLEASE TRANSCRIBE

[Spoken Word]
Whoo, alright (Yeah)
That was a real good verse, what the f*ck are you talking about? (Yo, don't— don't worry about it)
What are you talking about, yo, yo? (I got this, I got—)
You not making any f*cking sense (Don't— don't worry about it)
Hey, yo, somebody's at the door, man
Go get it, alright? (Uh, I got it)
You go get the f*cking door, I'll handle all this sh*t (Alright, sh*t)
Don't worry man, I got it (I got it)
I'm damn sure hope you do (I got it)
You can't sell a f*cking record like that, who gon' sign you, man? (Uh, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 2]
Damn, where's the great foreign n*gga who went from nothin' to frontin' for somethin', me really want it
I remember in my second year of high school learning
I got this [?] girl and now, my palms burning
And you know what they say about your palms itch, right?
I'm gon' get money, I'm gon get
Disclaimer, all lyrics written with a firm ground and bad thoughts
Spendin' money I don't have on sh*t I just bought
I swear, I'm allergic to all currency
Minimum wage benefits, getting cash and spending sh*t
Every time that I'm making it, I'm trying to get rid of it
Slaving over this little bit, but you know I ain't making sh*t
Working for the f*cking government
And a [?] and [?] and camel ticks
Runnin' over these potholes and dips
Climbing this Gucci ladder
Motherf*cker, yeah, I'm about to slip
The fall back and I ain't [?]
Maybe the problems me, and not my p*ss-poor check
I ain't promised today be for worse than the [?]
Get back on the road and climb right back up that ladder
[Spoken Word]
Sike, hahahaha
What the f*ck?
Get the f*ck out of here
You still not making any f*cking sense
Whose gon' sign you?
What's the topic of this song?
What— what is it?
What— what in the f*ck, bro
Like I thought we had it with, who?
Oh my god dude, like seriously
You suck ass, I'm not even f*cking playing
What are you even gonna call this sh*t?

[Outro]
Babies in pretty
They so pretty and [?]
Ooh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-ah-ah
???
Monade
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