British Shit* Lyrics – FO3* – Frank Ocean
British Shit* Lyrics –
[Verse 1: Frank Ocean]
…rub, Linux shit
Hot boy, British shit
We got vision for my, we got vision for my
Me, I’m fresh as Hendrix shit
Bleach, rub, Linux shit
Hot boy, British shit
Top Boy, British shit
Found the wrong kid
Gotta calm, kid (Yeah)
From Congea, orange fever, my orange shit
Little demon on my shoulder, that’s the dependin’ on my mind
Somebody pray for my opponents, got this vengeance on my mind
Is God workin’ on it, do we got a vision for my life?
Do we got a vision for my life?
Do we got a vision for my young boy
Greed comes, not fond of your shit
Niggas just got some money and shit
Got a whole plate, can’t stomach this shit
All of this shit, damn
Like I’m pourin’ clip
If you turn up the mix
On my fantasy, that’s fucked up, you can hear their screams
Little demon on my shoulder, that’s the dependin’ on my mind
Somebody pray, I gotta pray, got these visions in my mind
Attempted murder charges still attempted, tryna attempt, tryna attempt
Attempted murder charges still attempted, tryna kill
Cocaine, took seven father figures, out of mind
Attempted murder charges still attempted, tryna kill my guy
Leave him at your migo, worst decisions made for sacrifice
Wrist band them, fifty-fifty chance I let shit
[Break: Frank Ocean]
Fast was the line, had to let it go to see for twenty mile
How you know the price but not the code and denial?
Please show passports if your man is willing to smash
Bullets I require, for what you gon’ buy
Ask anybody here that I pretend that I can hear them
[Verse 2: Skepta]
Yeah
It’s a label in my mouth, let my demons out to play
Then I buried them in the dirt
‘Cause he was standin’ in my way
I was the one cookin’ in church
Someone that Jesus couldn’t save
I’m the real livin’ evil, I spit under them…