Lyrics:
shoulda just let me have you
I could've made you so happy
But I don't do second chances
Everything, man what happened?
Forever I wish you happiness
When I make an impact, you mime.
Squeezing your face, lick lime.
Nigga from a broke line, no dime (ayy)
Why you spitting little kids rhyme?
When I'm
there's something wrong
Bitch you gotta get that shit, lil baby whatchu' want?
Hop up on that 6-4 (fo')
4am thuggin' by myself, don't leave alone
Rockin'
hold true so i just need to warn him
Gather round kids it’s a bedtime story
Why they always telling me that bedtime boring
Why you always tell
to live this lifestyle forever
Only to forget what it meant to me
It meant something to me
Redemption from the wisdom tree
What shows up on my Instagram is
keep lineing up im like right then hi there
All you want me signing what and who how when why where
Wont stop me narh not now narh not ever
Or the future
on
Intake so that we could innovate tryna brake way
From the shame do we have what I takes are we
Late to the game if so that's ok
Run away yeah run away late
a Pringles cup
Send him to my runner like, bro, can you ring this up
Sold dope to a wimpy kid, he goes zoo-wee-mama
Flipped on the gang, he lives at 12
and let your mind be free
And by the way welcome to the party
Uh uh excuse me Mr. Kid Rock (what's up?) can I do my thing
Uh, can I have a little something
brilliance
A perfect form of ignorance
No matter who says or thinks I can't be what I want to be
The laughter from haze and drinks one day will be so sweet
and its
Lift me up virginia
Unbothered by uncharted hits that I done authored
I learned from the streets and burdens of grief my lungs harbour
The furthest
pockets and hand,
But I carry out orders from no man,
'Cause anything you wanna do, I already did.
You used to see me rock the house when you was a kid,
But
Yeah yeah, what
Who want it yeah yeah kid
One, two uh
Brooklyn, brooklyn, big borough with t
But everything in ain't always what it seems
You might get
regrets, no abortion, had a son
By the name of Seven
And he's five
By the time I do this mix, he'll probably be six
You do the arithmetic
Me do
And even when I ain't had much
I was still swagged up
But you can't judge a book by it's cover
That's why I put together the
Diary of a Hustla
You can't-You
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
anymore
I think about the things that
You and I would do together
But the thought of you just makes me want to die
I can't help but scream like
me set it off for (You! You! You!)
Always keep it raw for (You! You! You!)
Rock it to the core for (You! You! You!)
Yo! What you want? Yo! (You! You
mind be free
And by the way, welcome to the party
Uh uh excuse me Mr kid Rock
Can I do my thing?
Can I have a little something
To say right here? (Oh
and hand,
But I carry out orders from no man,
'Cause anything you want to do, I already did.
You used to see me rock the house when you was a kid,
But
personal kid
Not the first to be worse than me
Yet I've been turned till you think that I'm not the one with the curse of me
But you don't know shit from
give a fuck motherfucker
Roll through, trust no chicken
Tigh kids are tellin' me what's ammunition
Buck, buck ammunition baby
You let me slow
Said I'm losing it, why would you lie to me
When you really admire me?
With the rhythm inside of me fiery, I agree
Now put that in your diary, Tecca
that do you
The suckas that got the player hater venom
I want to take 'em outside and lay some slugs up in em
[King T]
When they need work
They
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