Lyrics:
Smoker session live resin 24/7
Ya, 27 tryna reach an empty heaven
Tired every fucking second
By way to Overtown and look at this city
Open to Grove and the South Miami
Wedwood Highlear, look Eddie, look 'Bana
Some many ice P-Rhymes rich
Really I'm 16 for 16 on this album no debate
Made my debut the best album I could make
I got set back for 2 years I wasn't planning on no wait
So
Damn
We ma-we made it
We finished the fucking album
Umm
Yeah I just wanna throw this on here
So let's have some fun
Some weird ass shit in here
Let's
on the craziest wave, album's a classic and I hopped on the stage
Caught a few planes, my pen getting static those tiny lil rappers they better behave
I know they
It's like EST met BLP
I pop out on this song
Might leave your ass with CTE
I pull up on that bitch
Might leave your hoe on DND
Might just leave your
and its beautiful
Sweet lies defeat lives
Sour Tears are cried, as the fucking years go by
Let the beat energize
In the streets we scream the songs to make
look shit to him
That horny bitch is still friends with him
Well if you transfer phones you better pop my SIM
These posers drop the soap and forget
really blame you? (Who can really blame you?)
We're the ones who made you
Ahem, back by popular demand
Now pop a little Zantac for antacid if you can
really blame you? (Who can really blame you?)
We're the ones who made you
Ahem, back by popular demand
Now pop a little Zantac for antacid if you can
it, ay
Hold up, bitches simmer down (uh)
Takin' hella long, bitch, give it to me now (uh)
Make that thing pop like a semi or a nine
Ooh, baby like
really blame you? (Who can really blame you?)
We're the ones who made you
Ahem, back by popular demand
Now pop a little Zantac for antacid if you can
it, ay
Hold up, bitches simmer down (uh)
Takin' hella long, bitch, give it to me now (uh)
Make that thing pop like a semi or a nine
Ooh, baby like
to stay boy!
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and murk to get murked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my
of gettin' money how Bill Gates is
Young lives being taken by the .45
Genocide'll rise 'til glory die
Every other hour more bullets fly
Victim
the Godly!
Live when we party!
Hypnotized by her body!
She probably won't call me!
She still drop it
Like Molly!
She pop it
No molly!
And she see us grinding!
every one of y'all a fucking coward?
I'm doing god's work by myself
Every real nigga's just an extension of me
I live and I die by the code I made up in
attention
And not to mention you look like you're on a pension
You look like that ronald MC Donald and MC hammer
And by your heavy breathing I can tell you
the credits rollin'
Starring Nas, executive poet, produced, directed by
The Kid slash Escobar
Narration describes the lives of lost tribes
In the ghetto,
the credits rollin'
Starring Nas, executive poet, produced, directed by
The Kid slash Escobar
Narration describes the lives of lost tribes
In the ghetto,
mama she don't live at home, I bought her Rome
Thick thigh little pretty ho
And I be getting high when she getting low
You should see her hips slide when
a few graves
I hit the club and pop a few Spades
I'm gettin' pussy like Uncle Luke in
His 2 Live Crew days
She can't suck this dick again
If she ain't
Prime
Hold it to my ear, then I say I'm on my grind
Take a pic with my stick, pop some pills, I'm legit
Wife a THOT who been popped by my block, that's my
and believers. This was the album inspired by all Emotions that would attribute the deep and uncontrollable need of someone
In my case my amazing wife!
The rock
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