Lyrics:
gonna be around
Y'all gon' feel me on this one
Aight, real, real rap
Fuck is the deal, man?
It's game over, raw coke on the mirror by the thing
baby we'd danced till three, then she looked at me
Then showed a photo of a baby crying, his eyes were like mine (oh no)
But we danced on the floor in
I'll tell you so
That the blue between us never felt so cold
And I miss the folk singers from the days of old
When a three-chord song could save your
Laid down where the train should be
Rescued by a hand in the ocean
Now I'm alive in the wind's reflection
Why pay for my mistakes?
I get them for
I found love with the chemicals
I used to pray for a miracle, but now
I know that it's all over
We used to sit by the waterside
I'd kiss your
fuck around and get high
And release a album by accident
The more shit I put out the more haters become irrelevant
I'm spitting fucking flames
shoes, they ain't even got laces
I-I-I like bad bitches who be ragin'
Rage, ragin', ragin', rage
Bad bitches who be ragin'
Rage, ragin', ragin', rage
your tongue
Cause this pulse between you and I
Took too much of my time
I try and I try
You’ll never understand
You are what you are
Ruined by all
methamphetamine
At the AM/PM Shattuck and 51st
1:30 in the morning, streets at their worst
My buddy started a fight, some dude by the pumps
These black girls
two-a-days
Nike campaigns
Big ads on the side of the freeway
Ballin' out wit' my teammates
And ya better believe it
Jeweler callin' with D-Money on 3
beats
Ik had haar aan mijn hand
En toen ging ze uit het niets
Maar ma3lish ben gewend
Van de grond na bekend
Uitgeput kilometers gerend
Uit de put
a few niggas but not a lot
You gon' have to come back, I'm out of stock
I control my set when I'm by the block
When she come around me, she out her top
always down, every time I hit you up
It's 3 AM, you tryna fuck
'Cause the club closed down (down, down, down, d-down, d-down, down, down)
(Down, down,
genius
Saint Laurent jean suit, heard the Margiela screeching
Go to B block you know doc got the seasoning
The pole by the prayer rug, leave it
Now we
night
Watching the stars
Fly by on highway to high
We could go all night
Watching the sun
Rising on highway to high
If you go away
I will turn back
When you lied I was caught by surprise
Gotta hustle, ain't wasting no time
Making use, I ain't wasting my talent
I was broke, I was money-ly
Charity basketball game, me and Cook
I was still street smart, but played by the book
Gave away five verses free for Thanksgiving
Had a healthy litter
We've been together hand-in-hand through it all
It's just three little words, yeah, it's not a big deal
It's not like I can help feelin' all that I feel
you to wonder or to doubt or guess
So let me tell you clearly what I'm tryna express
It's just three little words, yeah, it's not a big deal
It's not
the slow lane, slow lane
And enjoy my time
These days by 3 I'm feeling
So much lethargy I just want to
Stay at home and watch tv
I see no silver lining
again with Donald Trump and Melania
Make my trap great again with Donald Trump and Melania
Met my plug in snakeskin, buyin' them bricks by the hundred
Griselda
Yeah, nigga
By fashion rebels
We take the blicks when we go to Quad, nigga
You seen what happened to Pac, right?
We ain't fuckin' with
the corners they planted a Ki's on
The key being there's more than just what they lead on
In a pair of sneakers that Tinker had drew the street on
Cement 3
make sense by tomorrow if you should get the time
No ticking like you spent ten long on the ticket
I kick it like a Carmichael with it, and you stoked
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