Discover the poetic beauty in ‘2nd Hand’ by $uicideboy$. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of $uicideboy$ or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Grey 59
All I see is scrubs
Face mean mugged
On a couple drugs
Smoke with Migo Plug
FTP my blood
Grey the fucking gang
Boy, stay in your lane
Never high, just maintain
Hate this fame, hate this game
Take these shoes, last a day
Oil flowing through my veins
Lil Remains, that make that stain
Y’all look good in cellophane
Mane, insane, real blade
Swing it through your fucking brain
I said f*ck ’em, we got a problem?
F*ck you gonna do with it? I think nada
Just a persona (okay), and I’m Nirvana (Cobain)
Popping Xans to make you mad, I know you want some
Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’
Got an ounce of the coke, white snow floating
River Road shawty, Yung Christ, one chosen
Slick tote the AK-47, stolen, woadie joscing
All of y’all are over-saturating ‘Preme and Bape
Bitch it’s FTP all fucking day, all y’all look the fucking same
F*ck the fame, f*ck a lane
Bitch I’m ’bout to swerve into the toll booth and scrape the change
Bring out your dead and blaming it on Yung Plague
Bitch I pull up with the K
K9 by my right leg ’til I say okay
K9 on his hind legs ripping off your face
All I gotta say is G59 until the grave
One color (one color)
Two numbers (two numbers)
Three fingers in the sky, amongst the thunder
I’m like f*ck the others I’ma
Bring the ruckus
I might f*ck your bitch
She swears, she suffers under the covers
I’ma-I’ma-I’ma hell hound, hell bound, shawty wanna die
I’ma sell pounds, sell pounds, shawty said she might
Let them bells pound, bells pound, shawty wanna cry
I’m like f*ck it every night
Keep turning black, I close my eyes