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Sir Benni Miles Video (MV)




Performed By: Armand Hammer
Featuring: Alchemist
Length: 2:59
Written by: Daniel Maman, Chaz Hall, F. Porter




Armand Hammer - Sir Benni Miles Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring 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 your enjoyment
But the reason for calling you this evening is

Dreams is dangerous, linger like angel dust, ain't no angels hovering
Ain't no saving 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, burning 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 turning it over and backwards 'til he threw it out
Laid on the boxspring 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
Leviathan swim with open jaw

(As many times as you need)

You need permission to have an issue with me
I'm not privy to the stories you live inside
A home of all history, I just bend the rhyme
Though mystery God, deepest look inside
Thick fog on the channel, rando pseudo Rambo, bad camo
Armed to a T as in tango, let the brains blow
Baldhead in Kangol, televised gameshow
Strange soul, raw scam
I ate a rose in shavasna, hopped up
Working on my posture
I'mma slapbox Judge Mathis and Judge Wapner
Hot stuff, crock pot all rocked up
Lock step, everything for sale except the scale
Props, bruv
Eight arms at the last grab, put 'em on the glass
The number's fine but his maths bad
Guns and butter for king crab
Claws pinchin' my skin tag
Yo, holla back, black
Brass tax double for windbags
Green grass and blue flower
Seaweed snacks from Okinawa
4D facts, don't be a weisenheimer
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




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 your enjoyment
But the reason for calling you this evening is

Dreams is dangerous, linger like angel dust, ain't no angels hovering
Ain't no saving 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, burning 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 turning it over and backwards 'til he threw it out
Laid on the boxspring 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
Leviathan swim with open jaw

(As many times as you need)

You need permission to have an issue with me
I'm not privy to the stories you live inside
A home of all history, I just bend the rhyme
Though mystery God, deepest look inside
Thick fog on the channel, rando pseudo Rambo, bad camo
Armed to a T as in tango, let the brains blow
Baldhead in Kangol, televised gameshow
Strange soul, raw scam
I ate a rose in shavasna, hopped up
Working on my posture
I'mma slapbox Judge Mathis and Judge Wapner
Hot stuff, crock pot all rocked up
Lock step, everything for sale except the scale
Props, bruv
Eight arms at the last grab, put 'em on the glass
The number's fine but his maths bad
Guns and butter for king crab
Claws pinchin' my skin tag
Yo, holla back, black
Brass tax double for windbags
Green grass and blue flower
Seaweed snacks from Okinawa
4D facts, don't be a weisenheimer
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Daniel Maman, Chaz Hall, F. Porter
Copyright: Lyrics © Royalty Network


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