Flodgin’ – Song and Lyrics by $uicideboy$

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Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Flodgin” 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.

Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake

I want a supersized suicide
Slick, he told me, “do or die”
I did it, now I’m dead
Didn’t even have to use any lead
Now my bed is soaked in blood, red stuff seeping out my head
‘Cause I was thinking how I never have cheddar to shred
Grey 59 put slime in your fine dime
Met her in person, she better in bed
Grabbed my sweater and left
Guess I spread her to death
No more breath in her chest
Just the sweat on her breasts
Body stuffed in the trunk of my ‘Vette
Oddy Nuff got the shotty tucked up under his head
Sloppy cuts on my neck
Copycats try to copy cuts
Now they dead
G 59, we tryna die
Fucking shine because the flame keep burning bright
Throw that body in the pile, and call it a night

Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake

SAMCRO with the blade, get a mayhem vote
Funny how the shade’s never thrown when you broke
Taking dope to the face, then I turn to a ghost
The haters, the bitches, they come by the dozen
The lyin’, the snitchin’, I’m never gonna f*ck with them
Pussy, you smell, like your homies been fucking you
Run up, get done up
I’m dreaming about cutting you
It’s the Yung Scarecrow with the ink on my body
Got Oddy right behind me, and he gripping that Tommy
I got the shotty, and I’m aiming right to your fucking dome
Invasions in your home
Hope you live alone
No, I can’t be fucking with no motherfucking flodgers
That junkie motherfucker got prescriptions like a doctor
Take 100 blunts to my motherfuckin’ face
Pistol to the head of these bitches that be actin fake

Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake
Pistol to the head, of these niggas that be acting fake