Lyrics:
like Red Head or Mookie
Wrote my album while on my lunch break up in my hooptie
Eighty degree weather under beads of sweat
I wanna quit so bad but I need
It's epidemic, forgotten, forgotten it got worse
I keep my head on straight, makin' money 'cause it's cursed
Makin' money makes a difference day by day
cake I know my bread long
Link up with the trap brother
Im mister Fuck your mother
Wipe Me Down bitch, not no cover
The way I lift it up I'm undercovers
your wife
Did y'all think of my perspective? Would y'all even make the drive?
Load up Grayson in his car seat hit the road
Middle of night?
Heard your
to clean
Zoom lion grind but make I come clean
Cause I got cream on my mind
'Cash rules everything around me' is blind
I walked the red carpet
For Ghana
the greatest alive
I stay grateful for life
Why don't you help yourself?
Why you takin your time?
You keep takin your time
You should make up your mind
Self
the history of music
By night, just to pay for that shit, you'd dance
To get your pants was a mission impossible
We were both the same age but I
Suppose
can't choose i can't pick i feel like
The world makes them two different people
But in my mind they're the same person
That's what I keep saying i grew
climbing up the tallest mountain
Fuck the time don't try to count it
They don't see the vision need some vi-sine think your visions shrouded
Blinded by
makes a difference day by day so I gotta stay
Paid, no doubt, day in and day out
This life is like a vicious cycle called fightin' to live
No matter
Never mind Jordans broer pay your rent
Gotta walk before you crawl take baby steps
I did make a mess accidental I never meant to
They believe lies
it up)
Gon' get in line, baby, slut up your mind (fuck it up, fuck it up)
It's a brand new season, I'm a righteous heathen
I take on the challenge
Greetings, earthlings, take me to your leader (ooh shit!)
D.E.E.P. you want to go D.E.E.P., I'll take ya D.E.E.P
You know you fucked up when you let
not mind it only makes the chase more fun
When I catch up you bitches are fucked I'm taking your arms and legs you're done
Hope you called for help
tryin' to make
Albums spittin' my style
And they don't even realize that I
Notice they stealing Nas' shit
I pump some Rick James with that Teena Marie
My
and tongue of Malcolm
Tellin' my publicist, fuck this government
Go 'head and make my album, this is the judgment
Vacate the island, billions will start
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
fell asleep in democracy
And woke up to fascist reality
Well, good mornin'!
Selfish little pig
Your abuse makes me sick
Cut off your greedy little
Sweet child, with a bright mind
You were born on such a dark night
And my friend, your glory days
Will fade with his last breath
Sweet child, you
to me
Yeah, my theory is…
Your lying to me, your lying to me, all because huh…
The scriptures gave me mo’ knowledge than college, college
I said,
Guantanamo for the grand sentence
Who's the Manchurian Candidate?
On your Facebook where they can edit
All up on the Gram where they can edit
Peace
Welcome to Rap Opera, the mind of a guy that is not pop enough
Fuck Wagner the times too tough to be pessimistic so his time is up
I today waver
it's hard to make a song
How you want it with us and half of your artists got make-up on?
Every magazine I open, you on your knees takin' prayer
and the boys asked the local
radio station, or asked the ballroom dancers to come up and feature in the video. They did. Puuh, pretty
good isn't it? By the way,
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