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OBSG lyrics : "Dirty Dishes"

Can't think so I write how I feel
Can't sleep what's fake, what's real
Dreams in the place, like dirt dishes

Cause deeps on my ego where it kills
Used to do what I do for the thrills
Now when I do it, it's for the chills

Man I need the same feeling back
Peas got my chest bumping like a heart attack
So many kicks, sounds like cardiac

Yeah ...circle back, no call the sac
Used to drink 40 then smoke a black
Now it's tight jays, but they never laced


Dirty dishes, yeah, aha
Dirty dishes, yeah


Can't feel my kicks, you wear them loosly
Buy my thoughts on whack, never loose leaf

When I'm going flowing, I spit cruelty
So them sucker ^!$$%s know they can't move me
Who is he, when I came and I showed up

Then she came I'm the %#@! when I throw up
Something like explosions when we blow up
Stretched out mane, roll up


Dirty dishes, yeah, aha
Dirty dishes, yeah

Dirty dishes, yeah, aha
Dirty dishes, yeah


Can't tell me how to run my gang
I'm like 2 key, don't wipe me down
I ain't Bruce Lee, I gotta fight for what's real

Me and my team, tryina make it big, get that deal
Hard work every time I step on the field
I slave ^!$$%, I ain't from ATL

But I'm a brave ^!$$%, in the club tryina find a nice life
Not a gold digger
I'm used to $#&@ing (*##$es free, I ain't a broke ^!$$%

Home boy locked up, and his girl running lossly
Dirty (*##$es, dirty (*##$es, dirty visions
Dirty visions


Lately, I've been having dreams
With somebody screams

As soon as the shooters scream submachines
In purse of the loot, among other things
We paper stacked up from the robberings

Don't fall for...
Me and my tea, we keep it clean when we on the crime scene
Pouring the bleach over the smitherings.

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