My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart by Jinerik Lyrics
Looking for the English lyrics to “My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart” by Jinerik from the album Your Son, the Alcoholic (2017)? More than 136 people have already found the lyrics of the song for karaoke, the notes of the melody to the song, the official video and clip of the song “My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart”.
Quote from the song “My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart” by Jinerik
Damn you want Wakka, Gucci? Damn you want vodka, gin?
Damn you want Yachty, Uzi? Well you got stuck with Jinny
Mastered the art of battle, a bastard I'm hardly heating
Man I'm too hard to handle. Now sing along with Petey
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Official Music Video Song “My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart”
Jinerik - “My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart” (Official Video Clip)
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Credits, Cast & Crew of Song “My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart”
- Produced: Serdna
- Written: Jinerik, Jesse Lacey
- Release Date: May 4, 2017
Perfect Lyrics of the Song “My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart” Released in 2017
[Favorite Song Lyrics: song “My Tongues the Only Muscle On My Body That Works Harder Than My Heart” with perfect lyrics for karaoke]
Damn you want Wakka, Gucci? Damn you want vodka, gin?
Damn you want Yachty, Uzi? Well you got stuck with Jinny
Mastered the art of battle, a bastard I'm hardly heating
Man I'm too hard to handle. Now sing along with Petey
Yo I'm fucking magic on the mic. I reak havoc like a prodigy. I dabble only slight. Imagine if I had a whole grip up on your neck. I'd crack the windpipe and i would sip on all your breath. Nasty with the style bro, you don't need to check that. I checked out for a year, just a minor set back. Technically I'm entitled to tilt your fucking head back. Look up to the sky and thank God that I was sent back. Here to strike these wise crackers, wack talkers. Tally wacker across your face, wishful thinking ain't it cock sucker? Tough talk, fucking faggots with a lot of nada to say. You got a lot of nerve to be so god damn cliche
And tis to say you seem swayed by cheap rhymes and beats bassed out. For Pete's sake. Spell cliche you mumbling dumb shit
Oh my tongues the only muscle on my body that works harder than my heart
Burned down the Earth with a church bound word of God. I am wrath, a heathen done snatched my burned up shard of sharp thinking. Harness across my arms, sinking into the abyss. Clueless with the bliss I used to listen to when I'd booze my wits. But now my blues done faded. I used serrated knives to cut the ties with those who chose to come away with toxic effect. Here's an anecdote about the antidote I planted potent inside of my manic prose and pride that sunk me deeper into panic mode: Had a smoke and had to ponder where I wonder, "Am I under so much stress I need a blunt to put me under?" Stunned by how stunted and stagnant I let my ass get. A hollow headed hooligan, hollering "what, where, where, and who" again. Truthfully the rufilin should kick in before you lose your cool again. Cool it down. This lucid, loud style you spit is perfect for this youthful crowd
I'm socrates. You can rot in peace and watch me as I rhyme with ease. I'm appeased to say that I'm a beast, to say the least. The eye that sees the highest peak is piqued by mine and replies "se magnifique."
If you don't feel me cut your wrist you stuck up twit. Let the rush just hit your fucked up wits. Where you feeling from? Your heart, your soul, your fear of sun? If you never rise how you ever gonna shine like one?