Letra de ' Sir Benni Miles (feat. Armand Hammer) ' de The Alchemist

Good evening ladies and gentlemen
Would you gather 'round, please? Please, hurry up, thank you
Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry to disturb your dancin' and enjoyment
But the reason for calling you this evening is—
Good times, good times, yeah

Dreams is dangerous, linger like angel dust
Ain't no angels hovering, ain't no savin' us
Ain't no slaving us, you gon' need a bigger boat
You gon' need a smaller ocean but here's some more rope
Barefoot in the bush burnin' dope, kush smoke out my big nose
My favorite game is: Let's Suppose, let's suppose
I ask the question just to see it in your face
I already know the answer never mattered
Every night, he drink and piss up the mattress
Kept turnin' it over and backwards till he threw it out
Laid on the box-spring like a cactus, madness
Some slowly go, some just vanish
Don't make a promise you can't keep
Don't make a keepsake out of grief
I can't promise anything, it's pills to help you sleep
It's ill but you're like krill in that cold deep
Alcohol seep out the pores like gills
Air squeeze out the ocean floor, (Yeah), Leviathan swim with open jaw

As many times as you need
Good times, good times

You need permission to have an issue with me
I'm not privy to the stories you live inside
A home of alt history, I just bend the rhyme
No mystery, God, deepest look inside
Thick fog on the Channel, rando pseudo Rambo, bad camo
Armed to a T as in tango
Letha Brainz Blo, baldhead in Kangol
Televised game show, strange soul, royal scam
I ate a rose in shavasana, hopped up, workin' on my posture
I'ma slap box Judge Mathis and Judge Wapner
Hot stuff, crock pot all rocked up, lock step
E'rything for sale except for the scale, props bruv
Eight arms at the last grab
Put 'em on the glass, the number's fine but his math's bad
Guns and butter for king crab
Claws pinch at my skin tag, don't holla back, black
Brass tax doubled for windbags
Green grass and blue flower, seaweed snack from Okinawa
4D facts, don't be a Weisenheimer