Lyrics:
remember (back in the days)
When I just a little niggarole
I looked up to my bigger bro
Begged if I could kick it so
When he went out with girls I could
the backyard by Logan the dog
It's time for you to move on
Yo fuck your Instagram and fuck your new song
Buy a Ghost Writer get a Groupon
And sell the bars
up to soothe it
Rearrange with the ruses that rose so ruthless
Since I was little, I was tied to the music
Ya should've gone in the first day you
like that y'all
Cruisin' down the street in my jett-black Volvo
Rockin' to the radio playin' [song name]
Heads all turn as I drive by
As I wave
guess she stole her grand sons cd
Yo momma, tellin you you need to be more like little wyte
Yo daddy, askin you how your gunna pay your bills and get it
lyrical, context that kick
Just like that little girl that got shot in +Fresh+
Word to momma, I'm hotter than that nigga with the bomber
leather pants
sing a song pop a three
from the top of the key in they memory
(Chorus)
Why oh Why do memories be chasing me
sometimes it makes me want to grab my shit
Drop my nuts I don't give no fucks
This money come in by the bunch
I turn a op to runts
How you dissin' on songs and ain't slid once
My lil' niggas
No more busses, pop the locks, I'm gettin' in
Started wide receiver but knew that wouldn't be the life that I would live
So in classes, started
em with a lyric n them niggas gettin' gone
I can never finish a song, cause the competition never hold on that long
Flow faster than the minutes go
Time goes by puffin on a lie, hoping that it gets me high
Gotta nigga going crazy, crazy
Niggas wanted to kill me, got locked up and never found
Know I always liein' a little, bullshit him
Tell his ass lye on the pillow, let him feel 'em
Pop dom wit him, and roll up (?) wit him
Create bonds wit
she's the biggest ho around
Can we take it to the bridge?
And skip the part about the fridge
Where she keeps her cold heart
By a stale Pop Tart
I've had a cigarette my mood is irreversible
That's how it's always been but things have gotten worse
Cause now for me to start the day I gotta pop
a slob, he's obnoxious, he's a misogynist!
He hates women! This shit is toxic) yo bitch, stop it
I hope your pop get his wallet picked by a pickpocket
Joe lives with his folks at home
Smokes little plants he grows
Cool for a kids but today is the big 3 0
It seems all his hopes and dreams
Got
night
When you home, and they say the club packed tonight
(it's time to go)
What do you say, when that song come on
Every thug on the flo', wanna fight
You should have let me know by now
Are you with it are you down?
I'm headed for the top right now
I'm trying to make it pop right now whether you
gotta make the songs cum
So I hop in the drop gonna pop shit
Then I stop on the block for a hot bitch
And I'm off of the top when I jot this
I feel like
ballin'
With a throwback jersey and "Phat Heads" we had all them
Damn, they used to tell me "B, never Stress the little things"
Back when Maxwell was still
a halo (uh)
Spinning till the top off, yeah I'm gunna pop
You know that imma keep it moving never gunna stop
Gunna (BLOW UP)
Bigger than a mushroom cloud
in the night, while you sleep like a villian do
Mellow on the mic a God being but a menace too
We are not alike y'all lyrics weak boy y'all little
sing a song pop a three
from the top of the key in they memory
[Chorus]
Why oh Why do memories be chasing me
sometimes it makes me wanna grab my shit
the dough
Guess that's my prerogative, they couldn't hold me down long
Now every little step I take feel like a Bobby Brown song
I got God inside my body
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