Lyrics:
I'm 17
From the south of the city we call it Chicago
A place where an artist can live out they dream
Just pray you can make it with action gon take you
tasteful.
.. you'll get into it. oh, some more - look - it's almost like going to a, well, never mind. heh, heh, heh. I just want to remind you that you are
talking money, boy you preach into the choir
And I be in her brain she can't think of none flyer for my nigga in the hood,
Looking at these other niggas
Yeah
Well I did woke up this mornin'
And I looks out my door-oor
Hey, I could tell my milkcow
I could tell by the way she lows
So if you see...
Yeah
Well I did woke up this mornin'
And I looks out my door-oor
Hey, I could tell my milkcow
I could tell by the way she lows
So if you see...
between us for real
I figured I would shelter you until I got me a deal
They ain't ready for your truth, for what you'll reveal
By showing them you,
for each other
Let's be free
Pray for people, pray for all the ones you know
Pray for all the ones who's close and for all the ones you don't know, huh
shit
HMV at the cash register, girls tryin to make me buy CD's
Soft jazz and homo R&B
I ain't payin for that Allure shit
Walkin by Bloomingdales
temptation
But deliver us from evil
Amen
I thank God for my son
I thank God for my family
I thank God for every second
That He gave me in this life
So I pray
to cash in
All these lames treat their dreams like GTA
As soon as shots get fired, they go passive
But not me, I fire back
My lyrical drive-bys leave mental
Get 'em
Living life on the east coast
Way back in the day tryna beat most
Anybody that wanna do what I do
Well, let me keep it a hunnid with
the choice was never mine
If it was would be through by now
But I'm still here somehow
Stand up and take a bow
It all stops when the penny drops
Living ghoul,
something fierce?) Oh, am I
Zaakir's the name, the A.K.A. super
The verbal acupuncture from the dope old schooler
I used to be the bubble for others that
confront, the ultimate sin
You're ready to die, but I'm dying to live
Verse 3:
What you know about mass appeal?
I peel out as I clutch the wheel
Death
shout out to the bay
They want the recipe cause I got too much flav
We'll make yo block hot even on a Sunday
Let it cool down on a Monday
Better pray
Let me, let me, let me
Yo, well you don't know the Bossladyb representing for the ladies
Listen it
Let me love you
Let me be the one
The one you
well that's true
Let's have a recap, devil on my shoulders
Pray to God on my kneecaps, bars too sick
Leave you niggas with a relapse, I'm about to blow
in blue cup, faded in the eyes
Got a jay rolled up in the pocket on the side
The compartment in the dash man that's where the gun hides
Well until I
[Intro]
Love got me feeling like sweet sixteen Feels like I’m sixteen
And then next year we’ll feel what Yep Yeah Yep
And then we’ll feel what
Remix
at the mass
I run it up
On the come up
We fuck it up
Blow up a bag in the truck
Finna get rich like the tails of the duck
Say they want beef well I don't give
be
Losing it
Those men so weird
I sense hoes here
Well then
So Be It
You speaking sideways to me
Like you ain't straight
You like a dying plant homie
our Christmas Day
We'll find some rest, be not distressed I pray
For we are blessed this sacred Christmas Day
Can you hear the sleigh bells
Can you
police
Ready to run dope from here to the Middle East
And call me Mr. Paul
Cause I be smokin muthafuckas like Steven Seagal
Mr. Killa, the ghetto
through these past couple recordings
If I'm only Michael Scott
I hope they gonna see me as Jordan
And the choir sing frank songs and no one would be crying
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