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Author/Artist/Singer: Infinite
Music Title/Track: One Day Radio Mix
Theme ID: 5600
Album: N/A

now one day)

Yo who stepped off rage
Broke cracked bottle tops spilled this forever
Whites no trace leather jacket zipped up to his face
He dipped behind the wall Shalenka couldn't aim to touch it
These cats have started something that they couldn't finish
Now they flee the country
Yo shot guy God please forgive this life we're living
Takin' mans for diems aiyo hands on your head where I can see 'em
The chron's shone, spit out the combine
I'm tryin' to make my exit real quick
We leave no form of evidence

Bakin' slugs out the dark
Wild shoot-outs through the park
These jail houses overcrowdin'
All my thugs remain calm
Money turnin', trees is burnin'
But one day, it'll be gone
(now one day)
I'm your suspect

Yo, heavy chrons with small engravments
Digits wit' small letters that name it
Man created, but always to blame it
I'm far rusted, pushin' your glusted, you busted and pussy
Open your face and get chopped, just like a cussy
You're pyro, I got one eye lookin' straight down the barrell
Don't mistake me for shhhh, I'll eat your food and real quick
Burn up the gear I dressed in
Meanwhile the motive got them itchin' questions and guesses
What would you ask God if you had one question?
Aiyo, deal wit' your family in your life
Don't try to flop mine, they puttin' over dates and trials
Little snitches turn into coffins and push six
A man could be my worst enemy, I'll take this
>From pyramids, beer caps to dollar bills with faces
Got me chasin' bloody papers
Scatterd 'cross the floor like forty acres
So tired that, better yet, picture this from beer caps
To dollar bills, black clips, lyrical high tips


Yo, half a dutch inside a candle seed
Liquor bottles in cemetarys
'Nuff built up inside my body, but the Lord is my salvation
Still have to make a move, cause just put off
Broken fingers on metal tables, hands off, I'll pull off
Black caddies and starlen windows that's bulletproof
All you could see is fog off the door
And richotched to the floor
thirty-four fours, align your back, all straight to your jaw's jaws
All pause, lookin' through the barrell, it's all yours


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