Lyrics:
mean if there was something I could do for you.
Do you have any identification.
Identification, lemme see.
It's a nice watch you have on.
Wa ist los?
It
army all by my lonely
I barely got any homies cause niggas they be so phoney
It's more than rhymes, I'm a picture painter, a artist of rhythm
The rapping
up & link
Like what the others does
All they do is beat around the bush like they George W
Like they george W
Can tell by they smile, can tell by
for ending your careers
Not like you had any
I'm up in studio shout out Lenovo
I fold that boy just like a Chromebook no Lenovo
I searched that boy up
Analyze the plug and the things
He could do for me, ghost
Let's go
Anytime I talk, you know the truth spoke
(You know the truth spoke)
Any rapper that ever
Written by George Jones and Jack Ripley
Just a few of my favorite lies . . .
Lately I don't even miss her
Yes it's true, out of sight and out
the third child was sickly-born and grew
Yet sicklier, tho' the mother cared for it
With all a mother's care: nevertheless,
Whether her business often call'd
sugar
Sugar sugar sugar sugar sugar
Ah, it ain't over child
Your racing car
Raised by the boldness
You know you are
Your lips like cherries
I finessed a dude named Robert for a Honda Accord
I just scammed an old white man and his name was George
I just knocked out the bank lady like my
take responsibility sister
I made an err
I blew it all and look at your walls
Gearing for war now
Well, don't you worry child
Nobody gonna make your
"Boy, ain't you got any other songs than these?"
I go walkin' after midnight, goin' where the lonely go
I got heartaches by the number, hear that
be foldin', fuckin' with Swollen
Queens get jacked by the king of spades
Buc Fifty, Mad Child, Prev Won, poker face
Full house, royal flush,
The whiter the skin, it’s like the lighter the sin
When you black as George Floyd you gotta call for your kin
When you black as Breonna Taylor there’s no knock
to be aware that there's
Any such thing as grieving
Young mother down at Smithfield
Five a.m., looking for food for her kids
In her arms she holds three
to be aware that there's
Any such thing as grieving
Young mother down at Smithfield
Five a.m., looking for food for her kids
In her arms she holds three
took a-me by my hand, she said lonesome George you don't understand
Who do you love?
The night were dark and the sky were blue, down the alleyway a ice
took a-me by my hand, she said lonesome George you don't understand
Who do you love?
The night were dark and the sky were blue, down the alleyway a ice
Now Arlene took a-me by my hand, she said "Lonesome George you don't understand,
who do you love?"
The night were dark and the sky were blue, down
bands four
That's child's play ima grown man i want more ok
Ok one M two M's three M four
Now we talking real money that's what im here for
Ok One band
Gone back pon dem words on de blink of an eye
Lucky seh de father situated by meh side
Lucky seh meh mudda teach meh how fi hustle as a child
Suh meh nuh
for George Floyd and Jacob Blake
Ok ok
We on the brink of depression
Instead of addressing
This shit and connecting
We letting the enemy flank us damn
I
Today's the day, we gon' get him out them tiers (Tiers)
This our only shot, he been locked up for years (Years)
That's my brother on my mother any
To anybody that embody the love for they kids, keep the family away
They lookin' at you too if you standin' by him, keep the family away
I'm lookin' to shoot
a cautionary tale
Word to George Orwell
So don't 1980 force
Any plugs into sockets
Always wear a chastity belt
And triple lock it
Then hire a taster
Make him
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