Coin Songtext
von Hurt Everybody

Mogs walkin′ round with pistols
Guess they never liked pencils
I just always loved dope, and now when I walk, it's like the ground sizzles
Swimming in a cul-de-sac of options, I possess a handful of talents
Too many peasants claim king, I find my gun full of balance
I wish I had it as good as it looks
But if I had it that good I′d be whack
Like a V-neck shirt to the club, YUCK!
If I had it good, I'd be that
My mother taught me fashion design, so
Most of what I wear, I designed, and
Everything I wear woman like, joe The baddest in the room should be mine, ho!
I got employees, looking like I plotted on the Ouija board
Connecting with all the dead presidents, and now I'm getting my George and Weezy on
Get my Vegeta on
They gone pay me what they owe me and a little bit more
Because I′m smarter than my elders and I settles the score
I ain′t wired too tight, but my appearance is clean
Summon up my equals in Chicago to cook up a regime
It don't matter what your class, you can make it yourself
With the longer you have struggle, you should make it to wealth
(Blessed)

It′s like we ain't supposed to have shit
′Cept magic, got magic, this magic
It's mad kids, with match stick, fed madness
Then locked up, vanquished, banished
It′s like we ain't supposed to have shit
'Cept magic, make magic, this magic
Got magic, this magic, this magic
Magic, magic, this mahjik


Tear soaked loafs, Blood in the city
This the verse heard around the world babe come fuck me if you feel me
My city is a hell, Devil working well
Killing ourselves, all under spells
Get em for the funds and the gear
Young niggas tote guns over here
And they run off of fear
Shootin′ with the sun in the air
Niggas shootin′ with the sun in the air
And they told who done it
Your homie gone 25 summers, but the nigga that he hit he had it coming
The nerves of him, absurd how we live
But the life gets deeper the further you swim
The lap of lux, done passed us up
It's them or us, Our knuckles up
Enough′s enough enough's enough
Our knuckles up, It′s them or us
The lap of lux, done passed us up
All under spells
Killing ourselves
Devil working well
My City is a hell

I'm on auto-pilot
I think I′m a shaman
Swallow ultraviolet
Let the truth unfold on this silent night
This pursuit of gold, and my pride is plight
Pie everlasting, I'll find a slice
This algorithmic, jot down the digits
No mathematician, You maleficent
My palates switching, Been had this shit
Man that's magic, and we ain′t even supposed to have shit