Donny Trauma - Proportions (feat. Serafim) Lyrics

Proportions... give this much, give that much
You never really get everything you want
You always want something else, right?
I aspire not to be you bro
You prolly got a little dick and a one way ticket to f*ckin nowhere in life
So take a chance and shut the f*ck up for once... one two three go

Eatin only large proportions
After four songs i made a hefty little fortune
Every time you talk smack your shitty life shortens
Heard about it later from the best of all my sources
Takin different courses were smokin on the porches
The way i roll up an eighth in one blunt it's gorgeous
Hit you in the stomach and it's torchin all your organs
Takin on the warden I'll cook you like I'm foreman
We're orphans, minds are going blank and leavin traces
Spacing like I'm crazy blunts we smokin got some laces
Different stages same places smoking on a daily basis
Got a pump in the trunk wit a couple 12 gauges
Changin up the game, never stickin with the classic
Pages in the book they keep the flippin up sporadic
Like an addict I'm just acting up, bitch I'm holographic
Never static til you back it up, bars are automatic
Havin nothin but a couple blunts, no im never matchin
Cash is from the backseat of troubles drivin rapid
Im just avid bout the rappin never slackin always packin
With a set of hot bars leave you askin what happened
Chasing down a blunt with another one it never ends
Asking where'd i grow up, the cut bitch I'm heaven sent
Songs are gonna blow up, and heat up like session tends
Trendin like the seller shed i leave behind the severed heads
Of people tryna f*ck with me, said i got a method then
I'm lettin out the demons, step inside the f*ckin devils den
You fake as f*ck, and rocking with whatever trends
Hit me up after fame, I'm askin were we ever friends?

Gimmie the blunt back
I'm facin' that shit
Cause I never do puff-pass
The purplest skunk pack
Magilla Gorilla
I'm needin to cut back
Hand on my nutsack
Yo girl told me
You got a dick like a thumbtack
Back, back
Lil nigga back, back
(Back back)
Sniffin' on lines of the Whitney
Pockets on Winfrey
Tell a f*ck nigga "come get me"
Diamonds all up on my watchpiece
I know you watch me
Cause a young nigga just bought these
Toolies for all of my shooters
Boy, you a loser
Kill like my name Freddy Krueger
30 round clip my extendo
I'm in the bando
Grip from the hip like I'm Rambo
It's extortion
Like I'm snatchin' your chain
(Chain)
Couple months
I bet I'm snatchin' the game
(Game)
When we drop the album
Bet I'm snatchin' the fame
Swear my name was drake
Cause it was never the same
(Same)