Lyrics:
(man) I can't believe it
Nice ass and cleavage
She's 23, she's somebody I can see ME wit
2 weeks pass, now I'm gettin wit her
3 weeks pass, I'm livin
years old, niggas out hoppin' fences
Doin' dirt, thank God I ain't resting in it
What's it worth? This one about a half a million
I bought the bitch
and stroll
Stop and go, cop an old up town choppin
Choppin for dough, prophisise
Monopolize ingrown, pull back with no remorse
The horse power cross bow
turn into helter skelter
Grimey niggaz only 12 years old be drenched in gold
So much ice them niggaz cold, just sold
20 bags to this undercover cat
I think I'm losing my mind
I feel like using that nine
(talking)
(Man hold on here a minute, I just spent five motherfucking years
y'all ain't
years old, I never left the country, imagine that"
passed that phase
Now people look at her like why the fuck he act that way?
I gotta (wake up)
About three years ago we were doing a show
And we
Lonely in ye home chilling with the 5 year olds
Lonely all alone chilling with your mom at home
I know it ain't perfect you
You wanna learn about the bees
feeling Misch Porter
True say I might step with Harlem
I'm a hundred with gang
And by myself I'm spartan
Them man there doing up bench
Cause they ain't
'cause I sweat and I bleed
Did it all on my own, didn't beg
Didn't plead everybody talkin' 'bout "Logic
Don't sell out!" bitch I had a deal for
Years
to know
Paid dues, I hate rules so I made my own
Pushing on a open road fighting off sleep
5am whipping solo until I eat
Major key don’t play me for cheap
started, brudda you got ghosted
Who do you worship, that’s a Sunday service
You’re fuckin 40 years old but you still a virgin
These bars are so high but it’s
know I did it all for y'all
I got rich, still the same old me
Tryna stay lowkey
Likkle plain Rollie, uh
'Member when niggas used to have to call my
fucking pole
Up and score
On a 3 year old
Bitch you fucking cold
Mommy and daddies crying out with some runny nose
The NRA got them puppets strings on us
it all goes
But it takes it til the end, final countdown
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Boom boom, blowin up, blowin up is the outcome
[Chorus 2X]
I've
me feeling Rich Porter
True say I might step with Harlem
I'm a hundred with gang
And by myself I'm spartan
Them man doing up bench
Cause they
enough, a Buckaroo Man
Cold fingers stiff in the mornin'
By noon it's a hundred and three
Five year old slicks in the canyon
cnd never a hint of a breeze
line
Ridicule, for tryin' riddling Junkies
What a powerful country
That keeps, promotin off flunkies
18 years old and your brain is like lunch meat
years ago and he still waiting
I scammed via a Telegram admin and I'm still waiting
I'm up at 5 in the morning and I'm still facing
Ran off on Tom
Brandy
Keyshia Cole, Lauryn Hill if you're speaking soul
I fell in love with TLC when I was three years old
Angela Davis bailed out by a Fresnan
It was
Scott, the kids deal with real life issues!"
Fuck that!
The truth is, we're just a bunch of 20 year old kids who really like music
We play what we like
and he hung
My mom found him in the basement there as he swung
At 5 years old what does that do to a kid
Produced a maniac anthrax type of a kid
I hear
Rockabye baby tonight
Its been three years since they finished high school
Now baby's growing up
Mary works sellin' hot crossed buns, since Georgie's
a rest."
And they settled down to a house near the water,
Where they would live to be old and gray
And many years later and the kids are all older,
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