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F.T.W.W. (Remix) Video (MV)




Performed By: Otitis
Language: English
Length: 3:16
Written by: Michael Querim




Otitis - F.T.W.W. (Remix) Lyrics




Every year I get older, this coldness grows
I'm way more McKinley than, Poconos
Far as coldness goes, I'm froze (Can't emote)
Far as roads, I chose my prose (And I quote)

All that we see, or seem, is but a dream, within a dream
That's an Edgar Allan poem
All I'll be, or been's, the meanest thing, they've ever seen
That's what I added in the flow

I been ready to die, since I came up out the womb
I was sittin' in the cradle, waitin' on the tomb
I been brewin' with no ladle, I been feedin', minus spoon
Mix the hatred with the faces of the ones I have consumed

That's some food for thought, this some lucid talk
If I could really kill with flows, I'd leave the booth in chalk
I'm the one who leave 'em mourning like a rooster's sqwawk
Here's to Jack bein' nimble, let him lose his stalk, so

F*ck you, f*ck him
F*ck her, f*ck them
F*ck everybody, f*ck everything, huh
F*ck this world

F*ck you, f*ck him
F*ck her, f*ck them
F*ck everybody, f*ck everything, huh
F*ck the whole world

Poetry in motion
Waves of hate flows, hold this ocean
Rush your brain flow, all encroachment
Bill insane flow, it puts the lotion
Or it gets the same hose, again

If I had me a button to explode the globe
I'd press it (Press it)
Everybody got a soul to throw, they time's rented
Cool livin' life cold, alone, and I meant it

I don't trust you, just take my chances
I don't love you, don't make romances
I don't hug you, just break your glances
I be doin' self-checkout at the Safeway stands

I hope my dad is nothing, homeless and filthy
Hope my ex is suffering, lonely, and guilty
Hope my haters hate me 'till the day they kill me
If I murder them, bet I'd still be guilt-free

You don't deserve my oxygen
You'll never learn the spot I'm in
'Bout to swerve off shots of gin
Curve the cops and then, earn the box I'm in

Would these people really mourn me, though?
Would they think about me on the next morning, though?
Nah, real friendship's foreign, O
Hard to hold, I'm a thorn to rose

Misanthrope defined, I hate humankind, no one in the world ever made me change my mind
[ 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.


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Every year I get older, this coldness grows
I'm way more McKinley than, Poconos
Far as coldness goes, I'm froze (Can't emote)
Far as roads, I chose my prose (And I quote)

All that we see, or seem, is but a dream, within a dream
That's an Edgar Allan poem
All I'll be, or been's, the meanest thing, they've ever seen
That's what I added in the flow

I been ready to die, since I came up out the womb
I was sittin' in the cradle, waitin' on the tomb
I been brewin' with no ladle, I been feedin', minus spoon
Mix the hatred with the faces of the ones I have consumed

That's some food for thought, this some lucid talk
If I could really kill with flows, I'd leave the booth in chalk
I'm the one who leave 'em mourning like a rooster's sqwawk
Here's to Jack bein' nimble, let him lose his stalk, so

F*ck you, f*ck him
F*ck her, f*ck them
F*ck everybody, f*ck everything, huh
F*ck this world

F*ck you, f*ck him
F*ck her, f*ck them
F*ck everybody, f*ck everything, huh
F*ck the whole world

Poetry in motion
Waves of hate flows, hold this ocean
Rush your brain flow, all encroachment
Bill insane flow, it puts the lotion
Or it gets the same hose, again

If I had me a button to explode the globe
I'd press it (Press it)
Everybody got a soul to throw, they time's rented
Cool livin' life cold, alone, and I meant it

I don't trust you, just take my chances
I don't love you, don't make romances
I don't hug you, just break your glances
I be doin' self-checkout at the Safeway stands

I hope my dad is nothing, homeless and filthy
Hope my ex is suffering, lonely, and guilty
Hope my haters hate me 'till the day they kill me
If I murder them, bet I'd still be guilt-free

You don't deserve my oxygen
You'll never learn the spot I'm in
'Bout to swerve off shots of gin
Curve the cops and then, earn the box I'm in

Would these people really mourn me, though?
Would they think about me on the next morning, though?
Nah, real friendship's foreign, O
Hard to hold, I'm a thorn to rose

Misanthrope defined, I hate humankind, no one in the world ever made me change my mind
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Michael Querim
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Otitis

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