"Monade" lyrics
Devon Hendryx Lyrics
Alright, fuck this shit
I don't fucking care anymore, I'm going in
Yeah, yeah, okay let's go in now
Whoo!
Welcome to Travis Ten, bitch
Population, zero
Use to the detail, high-fives to the heroes
Savages 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
Bend them over backwards to guard both of my balls
I said cops and cars, I can't keep stay sane, need a masseuse (Hello is a doctor in? Doctor, are you black?)
This is the love equivalent of Auschwitz
I ain't love a ho, 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 shit, god damn)
Man, I got that [?] who said that she'll never leave me
She called me up on the curbs, said "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 like Stevie
Bitch 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 Sigur Rós told me this a good stop
But now I'm stuck in this lane, so I switch up and reset game
Can I get on with no co-sign to my name?
Or will I be a, uh brotherless nigga caught in the rain?
A powerless supermane with no hands or thumb
Just reassembled in vain and do something I can
I take aim at the dealers, capitalize on pain
And taking senses to censor all of those who remain
Whoo, alright (Yeah)
That was a real good verse, what the fuck are you talking about? (Yo, don't... don't worry about it)
What are you talking about, yo, yo? (I got this shit, I got...)
You not making any fucking 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 fucking door, I'll handle all this shit (Alright, shit)
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 fucking record like that, who gon' sign you, man? (Uh, yeah, yeah)
Damn, where's the great foreign nigga 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 lucrative 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 shit, I just bought
I swear, I'm allergic to all currency
Minimum wage benefits, getting cash and spending shit
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 shit
Working for the fucking government
And a penny and [?] and camel tits
Runnin' over these potholes and dips
Climbing this Gucci ladder
Motherfucker, yeah, I'm about to slip
The fall back and I ain't digress
Maybe the problems me, and not my piss-poor check
I ain't promised today be for worse for the badder
Get back on the road and climb right back up that ladder
Sike, hahahaha
What the fuck?
Get the fuck out of here
You still not making any fucking sense
Whose gon' sign you?
What's the topic of this song?
What... what is it?
What... what in the fuck, bro
Like I thought we had it with, who?
Oh my god dude, like seriously
You suck ass, I'm not even fucking playing
What are you even gonna call this shit?
Babies in pretty
They so pretty
Ooh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-ah-ah
Oh, God damn it
Monade
I don't fucking care anymore, I'm going in
Yeah, yeah, okay let's go in now
Whoo!
Welcome to Travis Ten, bitch
Population, zero
Use to the detail, high-fives to the heroes
Savages 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
Bend them over backwards to guard both of my balls
I said cops and cars, I can't keep stay sane, need a masseuse (Hello is a doctor in? Doctor, are you black?)
This is the love equivalent of Auschwitz
I ain't love a ho, 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 shit, god damn)
Man, I got that [?] who said that she'll never leave me
She called me up on the curbs, said "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 like Stevie
Bitch 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 Sigur Rós told me this a good stop
But now I'm stuck in this lane, so I switch up and reset game
Can I get on with no co-sign to my name?
Or will I be a, uh brotherless nigga caught in the rain?
A powerless supermane with no hands or thumb
Just reassembled in vain and do something I can
I take aim at the dealers, capitalize on pain
And taking senses to censor all of those who remain
Whoo, alright (Yeah)
That was a real good verse, what the fuck are you talking about? (Yo, don't... don't worry about it)
What are you talking about, yo, yo? (I got this shit, I got...)
You not making any fucking 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 fucking door, I'll handle all this shit (Alright, shit)
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 fucking record like that, who gon' sign you, man? (Uh, yeah, yeah)
Damn, where's the great foreign nigga 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 lucrative 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 shit, I just bought
I swear, I'm allergic to all currency
Minimum wage benefits, getting cash and spending shit
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 shit
Working for the fucking government
And a penny and [?] and camel tits
Runnin' over these potholes and dips
Climbing this Gucci ladder
Motherfucker, yeah, I'm about to slip
The fall back and I ain't digress
Maybe the problems me, and not my piss-poor check
I ain't promised today be for worse for the badder
Get back on the road and climb right back up that ladder
Sike, hahahaha
What the fuck?
Get the fuck out of here
You still not making any fucking sense
Whose gon' sign you?
What's the topic of this song?
What... what is it?
What... what in the fuck, bro
Like I thought we had it with, who?
Oh my god dude, like seriously
You suck ass, I'm not even fucking playing
What are you even gonna call this shit?
Babies in pretty
They so pretty
Ooh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-ah-ah
Oh, God damn it
Monade
