Lyrics:
brick by brick
Bowling pin the words that fit
It's 4am, and I, ha ha, I don't have the time for
Gridlock, sheet shock, knocking on the door
It's 4am, I
Ya By my Kumba linx
The youth grew me
The work I do four em
Add 2 me
Spikes depiction of the Windy City really
Blew me
Coming from A-MC who went to see
know the deal
I'm watching New Jack City
In my steering wheel
Man I love for the funk, I'll kill that wheel
Nigga fucking large I'm in the NFL
Killer,
and I was coolin, Brooklyn spirits we was snappin
In and out of fantasies on how large we can get
Corner rocks and Benzes with the ground effect kits
I
This place is a ghost town my friend
Each memory I have here has come to it's end
This city has changed, each year that's gone by
Nothing feels
don’t be hidin
That lean I be sippin’, onna average
(Pour a 4)
Y’all know how I’m livin’, I be slidin’
(Never naked)
No blood, no crippin’, from
is my intention
Been rappin so long some say I should get a pension
Ain't no tension
If I forgot to mention
I rock rhymes over beats for salary
stickers
I shoot videos and get knobs slobbed in trailers
Then hit stage and break a leg like Lawrence Taylor
You pricks is all talk, and it's bad for
a motherfucker would
I keep a fresh pair of Ones on my feet
And double deuces on the Chevy
Three's company, the double fours on my belly
Five hot amps,
to G-Shock, these the jailhouse Rolex
Be cautious who you buy a phone from, they might work with SIS
Had me stuck in the SHU, four months straight with one
class, open a stolen Accord door and haul ass
Body disposed by Albanian doorman for four grand, aw man
I throw the lamb in the ground and leave it
broke my jaw I reckon just for fun
I've got just seventeen teeth left to spare
I can't afford to lose a single one
I've been in Cloverhill
Four years more
on barbecue
Make 'em like grill
Four door that by saliva
I'm not talk about saliva
Slipping and sucking on pill
Furo Gone on that back
And I'm doing the drill
you can't get a freestyle
These niggas tryna tap in, I'm serving drip by the pound
Bitch I'm saucy like the dressing, phantom never out of style
Used
from the pound
I bust by round by round by round and round
I'm in concert for serving niggas get yo ticket
I lock a nigga out, good cop giminy cricket
am I
Wet through four seasons
In my city rainy skies
206 love
I got love for all my guys
My city's on the map
And we're eating livin right
Born
Manchester City Blues
Drown my liver in a pool of liquor, it's true (hey)
Monetize my pain and my hurt
Commodify my frame, do your work
I modify my name,
Ohw, I know how it goes
Tears with no flowers grow
RAV4, driving in my city at 4
I'm used to stares at the ceiling
My fault, I know I know that it is
Welcome to the Prospect Terrace
Rapping in public, I'm not embarrassed (Ay)
Pump out classics a habit and
Money by the bag like Karte's carrots
he pull up in bronco
The beamer is Blanco I call it Griselda
The 4s on the whip got em hating they jealous
We getting the money aint shit you can tell
to work"
That quarter block
All about getting that quarter block
Started with the rocks in a slab
Then I moved up on the Ave
Hit them up with that quarter
you niggas I pop put a shell in you niggas
My nice watch'll Helen Keller you niggas
I got whores in the cannon camcorder bendin' over
Blowin' game by
foods in different cities
Bitch I'm ranked up
I'll probably cop a glass of Prosecco before the layover
I've got all types of colors in my palette flow be
Locked in my room on that goon shit like boondocks
Yes, we on the stroll down the beach hit the red rocks
Dread locks, dead locs, big glocks scare
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