All Dogs Go To Heaven – Song and Lyrics by $uicideboy$

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Discover the poetic beauty in ‘All Dogs Go To Heaven’ 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.

Leave them all burning
Triple six degrees
Heard they started hating
Wanna murder thee
Yung Christ turned to Satan
Bless the devilish
Nowadays I get my joy from fucking chasing death
Mama raised a savage knew I wasn’t average
Pops seen me coming up
He knew I had the package
Let the ,40 kick
Drum roll with the sticks
Hands will f*ck your jaw
Know who you fucking with?
Get the copper popping
Chopper, Dalai Lama
Feel like Silk the Shocker
I’m a fucking problem
Streets call me doctor
Screw them then I chop them
Two cups, bottle filled with drugs
Liver on the rotten
Ruger, chopper, Draco
Cult around me Waco, yeah
Violence getting louder
Projects getting wilder, yeah
When I’m off a Xan, I’m quick to shoot the thang
Ain’t a clock to see there ain’t no time for a game
F*ck ’em all
Shoot them, leave them in the yard
Got a bunch of youngins around me
Take the charge
F*ck ’em all
Shoot them, leave them in the yard
Got a bunch of youngins around me
Take the charge, ay

Yeah, we all the same but we separated by commas
Yeah, we all the same until we all destroyed by comets
Alien invasion better run home to your mama
Ruby ain’t the problem solver
I’m the cause of all your problems
Bitch, I’m in Nevada
A 51s I got ’em
Snorting blue sand with my cosmic ensemble
I don’t give a f*ck if they’re pressed
I still bought ’em
Falling down like autumn
Call him duck boy
Watch him waddle
Full throttle when I empty out the bottle
When I empty out this clip that’s full of fucking hollows
You’ll be lying horizontal looking like a model
Scope is never toggled
I was aiming for your nostril
Now, I’m aiming at your bitch’s tonsils
I’m the queen of drama
Fucking up your life?
Yeah, all you gotta do is holler
You wanna talk drip?
Catch me in the fucking sauna
Spent a couple dollars just to make a couple dollars
All these bitches say my name as if it’s something like the gospel
All these hoes apostles looking like they wanna gobble
Looking at me crazy like they’ve all been wearing goggles
Po’ me up a 4
I’m looking like a fucking waffle
Feeling fucking awful