Lyrics:
And we still out here screaming free Bert
Carrying the city swear my feet hurt
Seen niggas hate first and then thirst for a free verse
Aint no one ahead
out here! (We really out here!)
We really out here! (We really out here!)
We really out here! (We really out here, yeah yeah yeah!)
All my life, all my
Cryptozoic skin walker Texas ranger
Spirit flowin through you when you bump this banger
Passion of the anti Christ, baby boomer slayer
Get low like my self
to find out the master's name.
Down at the end, round by the corner.
Close to the edge, just by a river.
Seasons will pass you by.
I get up, I get down.
lame
Im running right through you, so get out my way
You in my way
Excuse me, I'm ready to ball I'm in my 2-3
They thinking they stopping me but they
Gang
Dallas
Finesse Gang
Ain't no hate in my heart
I got rid of that
This ain't for the faint
This ain't for the frauds
Let's get into that
Take your
noise)
Yeah! (Where you get that thang, man?) (By my side)
When you do somethin' to somebody, um (By my side)
It ain't just you, it's somebody next
still will flip u on some Acro shit
Uncle still preaching shout out da cuzzo he’s da paster kid
When all deep whole fam cherish da laughs we get
Life’s
the time
Almost every night)
I'm haunted by you
(Try to get you out my mind
Then I fantasize
You been out my life
But you on my mind)
I'm haunted by you
(You
at the camp
My Kubfu get too geeked offa curry
I aint drop a minute needta hurry
I been guilty of waitin', the jury
In a sense, fuck with me, cause' I'm sturdy
thing called love
I know I do, what about you
I just can't get enough of your love, I need you in my life
Where do I go, what do I do
I can't live
depression make the best out it
Borderline flex out
Telling y'all the truth, so I don't ever get stress out it
Opposite of how I text tryna get sex out it
little squirt
All I know is earning
You can call me Ernie never Bert
And my ex she called me House
Because the way I pop them percs
It's like cat and mouse
she a thot, by the way I do favors
Comfortable in my pocket, Tom Brady
I’m the new James Bond, need my broad Tomb Raider
Angelina, bring the beef homie
(whoaaa)
I Barely Made it out alive but I made it out (yeah)
It was God on my side boi without a doubt (yea, I know)
I remember I was sleeping on my mamma
speak
Y'all lookin' weak
For the times ain't have a drop of
No food to touch my teeth
Bit my tongue out of hunger
Take your life while you slumber
Ain't
Gotham was the birthplace
South Jamaica Queens, that's where my earth stayed
By 72 a stones throw from third base
Them damn Mets that's what my Uncle Bert
5 day forecast clouds in a piss cup
Trying to pinpoint when the shit went tits up
Whatcha gonna do to get your ass out of this rut
So you don't
spit that straight verbal v
I'll let you meet J-B-Z, hang you from a tree in the Op's
This microphone is my life, the studio is my house
Might have an up
pull up in the motherfucking whip
Glock tucked on my side and my hand on the grip
I ain't tripping, don't got acid on my motherfucking lip
Drive by
pull up in the motherfucking whip
Glock tucked on my side and my hand on the grip
I ain't tripping, don't got acid on my motherfucking lip
Drive by
horny
From the night before, 'cause I was up 'til 4 in the morning
Just (song), so I take the long trip
And then I take out my song scripts
When I sit
out here! (We really out here!)
We really out here! (We really out here!)
We really out here! (We really out here, yeah yeah yeah!)
All my life, all my
inside my brain under the toupee
You see me going berserk, scratch that
Watching the longest yard with Bert Reynolds
Get out my rental mental hatchback
I'm
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