Crutches, Crosses, Caskets lyrics

by

The-Dream


[Intro: Pusha T]
Yeah
Uh-huh
Beautiful evils
Yeah
Check me out

[Verse 1: Pusha T]
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is victims
My young n*ggas sic' ‘em
I don’t get ‘em
I just get back their jewelry if I’m f*ckin’ with ‘em
Your man crush Mondays be owin’ n*ggas
My skin is triple black, I’m the omen
You can’t kill a God like the Romans, uh
Take my time to craft sh*t
‘Cause I don’t like back and forths with Puff about rap sh*t

[Verse 2: Pusha T]
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is victims
Rappers is victimized at an all-time high
But not I, you pop n*ggas thought I let it fly
I’m Yasiel Puig, I’m in another league
I defected, only thing we have in common, n*ggas bleed
In ya thousand dollar joggers as you rhyme about ya dollars
Is there shame when a platinum rapper’s mother lives in squalor?
Mildred’s in the Bahamas for the month
She’s probably sitting in her pajamas having lunch
Swordfish, my reality is more fish
Banana clips for all you Curious Georges
Old n*ggas slapping young n*ggas
Ha Imagine that, where you from n*gga?
[Verse 3: Pusha T]
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is death by the masses
The only asterisk is the change of address
My infinity pool as long as Magic’s
Yeah I let Zillow change my pillows
The home is so inviting, the Porsche is the armadillo
The silhouette
The pop, pop, pop; the chop, chop, chop
The throwaway TEC's got Tourettes 
It’s more than this drug money, I love money
I speak to your soul and that’s above money
This the ministry of street energy 
The church of criminology, teaching my chemistries
Woo I’m the L. Ron Hubbard of the cupboard
To some certain motherf*ckers gotta love it

[Outro]
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is victims
Crutches, crosses, caskets
Crutches, crosses, caskets
All I see is victims
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