Frustration Lyrics - Son Of Norma - S.p.m.

I'm so fucking addict (fucking addict) 

I'm so fucking addict (fucking addict) 

God, god 

Please help me god 

Christians please pray for me 

Haters please keep me strong 

Playas please love me 

Like you love my every single song 

Since my verse October 5th 

Both my fucken palms itch 

Made myself millions 

But thats not what I call rich 

Once I told my mom this 

You are not my mom bitch 

You stole me from my family 

Fed me from the wrong tits 

Please forgive your younger son 

You know I'll fucken die for you 

Woman you're my life 

You're in almost every rhyme I do 

Can't you see I'm dying 

From the pain that I brought to us 

Its obvious 

My conscious just won't let live anonymous 

I'm exposed like kleptos 

Just interview my ex hoes 

They'll tell you that I used them 

Then used them in my best flows 

S.p. I have blessed the world 

How did they return my love? 

Friends try to kill me 

And now they give me nervous hugs 

Get my flows the perfect drug 

Jordans pushin' redfore in 

Consider it a privilege 

You listenin' to the best boy 

Listen I ain't hatin' 

But they got your boy debatin' 

If I bust who would knew 

Except god maybe satan 

So I sit & I wait 

Steady contemplatin' 

No peace on the streets 

Must release my frustration 

(x2) 

Yeah I haven't fought police 

And tudy tried warning me 

But I met those bitches 

Thats abusing their authority 

I know we got some good cops 

Plus I know your jobs hard 

Some have gotten killed 

Cause they walked up to the wrong car 

Lots of men in uniforms 

That I consider heroes 

Lots of men in uniforms 

That act like fucken real hoes 

Guess yall hate the mexican 

Maybe how the things changed 

The accents, the restaurants 

To you it might seem strange 

But we have the same dreams 

Want the joy that peace brings 

Thanksgiving day 

The only day I didn't eat beans 

Got gave us x-ray 

To see pass the skin tone 

Don't you know that all of us 

We were born from one rib bone 

Or do you have that syndrome? 

That 1950's racist shit 

Hatin' bitch 

Can't you fucken see 

You suckin' satan's dick? 

I'm ain't sayin' rival me 

But damn am I the rivalry? 

Seems like everybody singing 

Ebony & ivory 

[chorus] 

(x2) 

How bout singing ebony & ivory & brownery 

America, america 

What you ain't proud of me? 

Now that all the freeways buildin' 

Throw me out the country 

Its not my fault 

I thought jorge 

Had chopped down a plum tree 

Radio don't play us 

So we don't got no place to call home 

Pocos pero locos 

Tried their best to put our songs on 

But they do it all alone 

And thats what I call bravery 

Just one show thats saving us 

And showing love from a to z 

[chorus] 

(x3)