Lyrics:
finna lay
Baker with the double Glock, he screams
He'll break your fuckin' face
Triple six is what we're chanting while we're tearing up the place
Run
together and make some good love last all night
It'd be a sin to pretend this is forever
That that full moon will hang on by a thread for all time
Oh,
me get my hand on the dice
All my life, nine out of ten involved in the heist
Only for ayallytes with the target sliced
Now the parasite blined by your
ringing the bell
Some of us down here ain't doing very well
Some of us with our windows open in the southern cross motel
Still waitin
For you
friends
But don't have much time for them
I have my house
A tiny pocket in my luggage
I have my boyfriend
But he's also so tired of listening to me
Every
(Ivan Drever)
There's not really a story to this one, however, if you like it, it's for you!
I'll walk this way until I sleep
I'll ride this road
Pass me the rock on the block yea post
Pass me the rock
5 on the clock
Down by 6
Got me feelin like Pac
Let off shots
Big baller brand
BB's up
Good
wo'nu church yen
Na she light up the place na she be the church gen
She dey clap with her bum bum kosi drum set
By the way me I just come for the gospel
they ain't comin' back now I'm on top
And these niggas want to hate
They see I came from the block
And stayed down the same way
And I got banged up by
count having child
That should be punished for taking to the breath that the good Lord gave you to speak my name out loud
Get your coins up before you
Say you'll be okay
I know now what I should have done
Cause I beat myself up about it
Count down from one hundred to one
Take a deep breath in
Or lay
count dollar for dollar, turn me to a robber
Me, Jizzle and AJ on the block lookin' for lick, come help us find it
In my backpack kept a binder, it was
do it Gonna' fight on through to the end All the way, you've gotta' just keep going Never down for the count, no you never gonna' throw in When
Every night when I get down on my knees I thank the Man upstairs for my family
Cause so many nights I don't think I can last any longer
But through
stores
Rip off the gift shops and downtown boutiques
Count down to lift-off in new sneaks; push you in the
Bushes like Musique; it drips on the floor
Me
up like "who this?"
They talk down, but so what
I'm bossed up, I'm so lit
I ain't got friends, I got groupies
Around me for clout, you don't fool
see the ice
Count it right
Yeah you see me nigga
Know I got it right
Hold my face
Know it's pretty boy
I should sign by Nike
Hold your face
Hold your
you face down
Stompin bitch rappers like I'm straight outta A-Town
Runnin the playground like it was a track meet
Shoes on the whip that be bigger than
me through
And I don't wanna be with you
I'm sorry I can't be with you.
(Ay this how it is)
[Verse 1]
Lil mama I got love for yo ass, but you
for dimes
It's like a lemon to a lime, a lime to a lemon
Sports trivia, Who's head coach is Bobby Cremins?
Georgia Tech Yellow jackets, Iller by
My flow is vivid
I give it two-hundred percent
That's a hundred for me
And a hundred for the rent
I know whatcha meant, Joe, I gotta flow too
Cause
flees, God draws nigh
I'm ready for war official nasty shut em down
Flesh no more, Christ. Sunrise, sundown
What now? I move with a swiftness
Leavin
thinking of you to make me strong
Oh my friend, oh my friend
Am I going where I belong
150 rum by the double shot
Warmed up in an aluminum pot
Track 4 "270 Somethin'"
Parody of Mark Wills' "19 Somethin'" by Mark Wills
Enjoy
Woo
You know a man does have to eat him somethin'
I love
.jpg/300px-Count_Basie_(1955_Kriegsmann_portrait_-_square_crop).jpg "Count Basie Big Band")
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