Rusty Chains

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Ghostemane] See I been kickin' it with my homie Scoob, it's half past four He rollin a blunt and I'm sittin there thinkin about how life gets old Sometimes all I wanna do is disappear in a cloud of black smoke And then reappear like Houdini, with no feelins, no feelins to show And I got these chains, got these rusty chains around my ankles And on the other end, I see Satan pullin me as I dangle Down down, into the unknown abyss, and I'm wishin I could just come back one more time so I could settle shit But I can't, so jump on in the fire is great So many Mothafuckas told me I would end up in this lake For loading a 9 millimeter into my Glock and then to my brain But shouts out to Aleister Crowley, yo writing is keepin me sane [Verse 2: RAMIREZ] Now take caution cause I'm killin bustas, with a Glock 45 Ramirez in the cut, go run and hide Fuckin wit me and it be yo demise Triple six is what I'm reppin, Kreepin out that fuckin dungeon Schema Posse, G*59, you better start to count yo blessings As I kill you when I pulls up inside of my Chevy thang Smoked out loced out, I'm steady gankin on them bustas mane Pullin out the street sweeper, I got ana off my chest With any busta mothafucka who be tryna test My nuts not givin a fuck, I'm fuckin shit up Knuckin and buckin I'm servin these suckas I'm whipin these Glocks so be ready to run Cause I'm on the hunt, choppin bitches heads off Throw em inside of the shadow, bitch Aim yo Glock so fuckin quick cause I'm burnin up yo body bitch Bitch, bitch, bitch Bitch, bitch, bitch [Outro: Ghostemane & RAMIREZ] See I been kickin' it with my homie Scoob, it's half past four He rollin a blunt and I'm sittin there thinkin about how life gets old Sometimes all I wanna do is disappear in a cloud of black smoke And then reappear like Houdini, with no feelins, no feelins to show And I got these chains, got these rusty chains around my ankles And on the other end, I see Satan pullin me as I dangle, down Now take caution cause I'm killin bustas, with a Glock 45 Ramirez in the cut, go run and hide Fuckin wit me and it be yo demise Triple six is was I'm reppin, Kreepin out that fuckin dungeon Schema Posse, G*59, you better start to count yo blessins As I kill you when I pulls up inside of my chevy thang Smoked out loced out, I'm steady gankin on them bustas mane Pullin out the street sweeper, I got ana off my chest With any busta mothafucka who be tryna test Test, test, test, test