Lyrics:
feel me on this one
Yo yo come on
Hip hop is not just one style of music
It's the dress code and the whole way you do shit
It's the way you rock ya doo
(You recordin', Smerf?)
You know what's goin' with us, nigga
(Foe Thousand)
Keep it trill, keep it real with yourself (with yourself)
I was
might slide with 30 in the clip
And when I leave, I bet this shit be empty (empty)
They wanna talk money? Nigga, I got plenty
This .40 gone bark, it's
(You aren't even a cold breeze for my man, Taz) yeah, nigga, ayy
Ayy, I'm finna walk this bitch, nigga
Yeah, gang
They like, "Tyler, get back
Many are called, but few are chosen
And You have chosen me
Not by my might, but by Your Spirit
So I rest, and You keep Your covenant
Not by my might
parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty,
At least it'll tell you how great you are.
You're the top!
parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty,
At least it'll tell you how great you are.
You're the top!
parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty,
At least it'll tell you how great you are.
You're the top!
parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty,
At least it'll tell you how great you are.
You're the top!
parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty,
At least it'll tell you how great you are.
You're the top!
everyday, who the fuck am I ducking
you reach for my bag and watch this it's gon turn out disgustin'
Love when you put yo mouth on my chain, girl, when we
this age
It's an epidemic your money spendin'
5k just for your name to be said by some e-girl
It's a cold world
But Snow is really on the fire shit
Some
pick what chick fi'nna come home
I bet you gon' learn to day, how 'bout that
Walkin' up out of here by myself
I doubt that
Go in hop in that Challenger
This is for all you haters who don't pump my shit
If you say this ain't gangsta, you can suck my dick!
I might look like a clown
But you niggaz sound
Already told em This ain’t what they want
He gone be dead by the end of the month a
Live by the gun you gone die by gun
I told em niggas this ain’t what
by 6 if you keep helping 12
You ain't all bout the gang you just one with the snitches
Michael Kors
Christian dior dior
Fuck around we might just shoot
(What happened to us?)
You told me that you can't go on this way
You've been through so much, that it'll never be the same
Scared to relive all
tell you that I'm him
Might just dunk on this hoe and break the rim
Wit J3 and JD you not fuckin with them
Gettin' high just like I'm Scottie
I stay
the lines
Damn we must be blind to see the signs we’re almost out of time
And reality might not always be what you might hope
Sometimes you’re really
way more than two strands
I know this song gone bring some new fans
30 clip might knock off the whole durag
Told me to throw this one away but who cares
than it is to heal
Good thing my desires ain’t as strong as my will
Life a test I might not always pass with flying colors
But you know I’m always down
it, ou)
Oh no Heard he creeping by the door 44 ou Knock Off His Nose ou
And I know niggas playing snakes so we cut the grass low
(Damn it, Goddamn it)
(Yeah)
(Peace, king)
(Peace, king)
(Listen, if they wrote a book on your life)
(Right)
(You think anybody'll read it?)
(No fucking doubt)
(Yeah)
(Peace, king)
(Peace, king)
(Listen, if they wrote a book on your life)
(Right)
(You think anybody'll read it?)
(No fucking doubt)
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