Lyrics:
sorry
Yo we’ll make it outta here
Now it’s clear see the path I’m headed on if I steer
May my ethics be my pedals and my prayers be my wheels
On the real
Cleveland, hoe
Who gives a fuck where you from?
I'm from that Nashville, bitch
Who gives a fuck where you from?
I'm from that Jackson 10, hoe
Who gives a fuck
Man fuck it I'm telling you nigga
don't tripIt's gonna be all good man
It's gonna be all good hey
[C-Bo]
Can't take my back is ill tack what I know sky
the baby boom has come of age, we'll work it out
I told my brothers don't you ask me for no favors
I'm conditioned by the system, don't you talk to me,
momma have reindeer?
I can't explain it but damn sure glad you came here
I'm still a sucker for cornrows, you know I never changed that
Your body is
niggas in the Fontein
I'm talking Strandfontein, man
Listen, uh, yeah, okay
Yeah, I'm talking bitches galore, that's how I do it
I scheme between these
I write for those who understand
Those who don't trust the brands
Music is never planned
Glad that you understand
It's a vibe I'm searching for
in love, caught up with me at last
Always knew it would, never had it so good
Now my time's arrived, and I'm glad I'm alive
I feel like a love
money so stupid call me warren busta buss
Nigga glad it ain't a toss and everythin' about me butters I've been countin'
Money so long I see dollar
plan a pretty picnic
But you can't predict the weather, Ms. Jackson
Ten times out of nine, now if I'm lyin; fine
The quickest muzzle throw it on my
plan a pretty picnic
But you can't predict the weather, Ms. Jackson
Ten times out of nine, now if I'm lyin; fine
The quickest muzzle throw it on my
Revel the views amazing
Glossy eyed I'm gazing
Forgive me for my praising
Watch em pop lock and drop it
To the sky
Only Angels could fly so high
Her hand
human feelings (huh)
Got a murder on my belt, it's holdin' up my denim (it's Gucci)
I'm keepin' the feds out my biz, you tryna put 'em in 'em (racks)
clip about the virus, not excited, I forgot all about it
Need all the space, now give me some room
Turn up the bass and it goin' boom
Tatted the face
a bakery
If you ain't Jackson Grant or Ben what can you say to me
All I know is real I have no tolerance for fakery
It ain't bout no money then I'm sorry you
deserve it not a fraction
I can't love a hoe I need a bitch that's about that action
The only thing excite me is a backseat full of Jacksons
I can't rock no
[Silkk]
Well, it's time to ride, slide
them niggaz that fucked up, they lucked up
Seen them niggaz rollin in they cutlass
I'm about act bad, no doubt,
your cup 'til it runneth over, Holy Grail
Uh, Blue told me remind you niggas
Uh, fuck that shit y'all talkin' about, I'm the nigga
Uh, caught up in
errybody look crazy when you start winning
I'm on a roll like an alligator with a death grip don't get caught up in it
I'm all about stand up business guess
the hoes that watched me on the timeline know they glad about it
It is what it is, can't do nothing get a bag about it
I can't lie she meant the most to me,
riches
And even then it’s still Nike tech maybe palm angles
All this talk about top tier y’all some arc angels
Fuck with me get your top Teared
I’m atop
know my aunt lookin' down on me like
I'm glad you made it
I know my uncle lookin' down on me like
I'm glad you made it
I know Slim Dunk, Bank Roll,
growth and victory
Don't believe me?
Well, DJ-Z! is about to show you the proof
They doubted me cause I ain't fake for show like everyone I know
I'm no
huh, uh, uh huh, uh (oh)
Yeah, yeah, oh, uh (oh)
I can't really explain it
I'm so into you now, I wanna be more than a friend of you now
When they
.jpg/300px-Mahalia_(32710764298).jpg "Mahalia")
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