Lyrics:
shoulder... ? Aw, you're fulla shit, man... ah, listen, by the way, before I go on; did you get those white albums I sent ya with the pencil on the front... ?
C
“What If It's You,” I'm singin' an ol'-time Reba tune
Bb
Baby, over the passin' years, I've shed some
intervenin', bitch
Aye, aye
Aye
Yeah
Ayo, you bitter and salty, I can spit over all beats
Through the boom-bap and trap, I'm iller than y'all be
Call me Killer
album
I mean what's really good I mean you good you know)
But nah but what's really good I'm in the studio now
It's a beat out there its fire
What's
Check me, you ain't seeing no cape,
I still wonder the nature of that and,
By that, I mean the mission I'm gettin',
This city needs leaders, not
now?
Shame on you, your a part of the crowd
I got over you, and you wantin' me now?
I'm so good! What you think of me now?
Am I still the fat kid who
official
Let me tell you when it all started
Game dropped Documentary and
Made plenty enemies
It was a classic album, but prior to that
Guerilla Black
with (I'm lockin' you out)
I'm just not to fuck with, so check it, yo (do it)
Y'all don't know who I am? (Fluid)
Listen up, son (mess up my mind)
ones you don't know about
Buns by the tons, mad guns and we going out
What!!
[Swizz beatz]
It ain't over, it ain't over, ain't over
[Sonja
My life is a haunting which is haunted by the looks of you
My old man ran away because he's scared to really face the truth
Tired is
me over envy
They want to send me, when we use to be friendly
Think I started off on top with two platinum albums?
Naw dog, I started off from
(Maybe in this song, you shouldn't start by saying)
Nigga, I said it, I know that you mad
I've emptied the clip over friendlier jabs
You mentioned
a highway star
I'm a highway star
Oh, yes I am, you mothers
Thank you. That's a new one, taken off Machine Head.
This is a song about...
Sweet child
a invitation
Now I gotta bring you into my world
Yeah...I'm just havin' fun with this...talk to 'em
SunN.Y. it's over, SunN.Y. it's over
SunN.Y. it's over
you don’t think so, you ain’t carin’
No opinions, only facts here
Only facts are what I’m sharin’
There’s a thing we have in common
I hope that you
Like "You ain't Lil' Wayne, you a lame
Man I got to go"
But I did it, and I was on a mission
And little by little a couple
Of 'em would get it
Was
wouldn’t even see my mother cry
Cause of bad decisions
Look
I wish I could say I was over you
Wish I could say I was over you now
Look, yeah
I wish I could
be the best grime artist
Even if I made an album
With a Punjabi hit-squad
Clash me, I'll make you jump like Kris Kross
Make a man know that I'm not
always prepared
Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about
Buns by the tons, mad guns and we going out
What!!
[swizz beatz]
It ain't over
chitchat
Over what my album's trying to get at
You got a punchline down pat
But missed the poem in the format
I'm no Doja, I'm hellcat
The new Manson
But then the rappers that get em done had albums that flip-flopped
I never flopped an album in my career
You could stand in my shadow and you still
em'
Now them shits look like the gruesome two-some
No jive'in, I'm down with muff divin' at a drive-in
I'll make a piggy a treat you like a slut from
I hold the chrome
You don't think so respect it or check it
Nigga
That shorty shit is over now I'm grown
Me I'm full blown
You don't think so respect
that's a feeling to trust
I thought I'd write you an album
I thought I'd write you an album
I thought I'd tell the story right
Cuz by now I've taken
.jpg/200px-Loretta_Lynn_SXSW_2016_-8842_(33197871691).jpg "Loretta Lynn")
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