Lyrics:
They want the album
I’m taking my time
Payin’ my dues
You payin’ dem fines
Word to billie eilish you rappers lying
Boxed in ya’ll been moving like
flow is a virgin, you gettin' fucked by the industry, thanks for ya service
Ridin' my wave like a serpent, the smoke clears and the Psycho emerges
Fuck
love you)
All, baby girl, I'd trade it all
Even give up my good green (harmony)
All, and I'd give the watch and pinky ring (is you by my side)
All,
and feminine figures posturing
Venomous vixens gossiping
Whether the witch will ponder this lesson that Ishtar promises
You better follow it
Maybe explains your
And walk around the block
Then my iPod shuffles to a classic beat drop
A joint by FANA showing love for the culture
Back when every single
Rapper rapped with
are open , I hear you calling me
I hear you calling me..
I hear you calling me..
Ohh......
From the album "Gravity's Rainbow"
Written by: N.
you on my level?
Boy nah, nah, nah
I slide in, I slide out, I slide back in, Yah
I been spitting bars
And you know they're on par.
(Verse 2)
Moving
back, forgivable motives
Tell me relax, it's part of the growing
Sick of this crap, you try to control me
Shovel me cash, you will not own me
Put me in
! I will shit on you
I remain fatter than gluttony
Tapin' bombs on the back of record companies
Blow 'em up if they ain't want me
The national
on you (I will shit on you)
I remain fatter than gluttony
Tapin' bombs on the back of record companies (uh-huh)
Blow 'em up if they ain't want me
that you was staking
Cause Im bout to make it
Yeah
Yeah they want more said say less
Album need views
Got patience
Take a step back maybe take 10
So
It's the return, East Atlanta, Santa!
Off the wall, off the chain
Off the top, I'm off the leash
So many freaks coming by the spot
Had to move,
looking over me
Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well
Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red
You used to be
looking over me
Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well
Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red
You used to be
think
If I keep goin' at this rate
I'll be a great next week
Album done in my sleep
I got it done in a week
Been possessed by my old self
Fuckin' with
take what I want, so
You tried to front
Hope you got yourself a gun
You ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun
My first album had no
Famous guest
an album that'll put a smile on Malcolm
Make Martin Luther tell God I'm the future for Heaven's talent
No tarot card reading; I'm foreseeing you niggas
didn't know where my life was going
Now Fast forward 10 years to my life today
You'll see a man on the mic that's living day by day
I'm just paving
Didn't know I could fuck shit up, yeah
Why you actin' surprised?
Lookin' at me with those eyes
I am not yet up on stage
But I am back with the vibes
word
God, I hate this art form so much
And this album is just getting increasingly incoherent by the minute
And yeah, you're right, we actually put
, I'ma put the city on my back
I'ma be the running back and the quarterback
Bring the parade to my city like I'm Ja Morant
It's a Truelove song, you know
at it, after mathematics
In the home of drive-by's and ak-matics
Swap meets, sticky green, and bad traffic
I dip through, then I give you (still)
never even called me by my name.
You don't have to call me Waylon Jennings.
And you don't have to call me Charlie Pride.
And you don't have to call
the fuck up, nigga?)
Turn
Nobody don't wanna cry no more (no)
I seen years go by, but bine been flyin' more (yeah)
Sometimes you gotta lose the battle
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