Lyrics:
hand
I got twenty-four reasons sure to get you feelin' right (that's right)
Gettin' lit by the lake, or party on a boat
Any way you like, you and me,
the edge of town off a dirt Road, Under moonlight hear the fires stoke,
Surrounded by a bunch lost souls,
At da Bottom of a bottle found our Cross Roads,
niggas from the East side
By 12, I’m on one two just came through
Three of my main dudes four door Gran Coupe
Five bottles in each six models at least
offended by this, but that's the market y'all missed
That's the target I'll hit
And that's the heart of my pitch
I wanna do this whole thing different
What
Blind by the light
High as a kite
Fifty five kilos is still kinda light
Five foot seven is no kinda height
As long as I'm driven I'll make it through
a missing uncle and another need a kidney flip
Face says I been stressed
I got a aunt getting her ass kicked by MS
Nigga, why am I here? For the look, for
For about five days now I have been singing
Engrossed is the bee of my mind
In the blue lotus feet of my Divine Mother
Divine Mother my Divine Mother
waitin' for the boat to come|When I heard some talk of makin' the kill|I was down the highway and over the hill from||Tillsonburg (Tillsonburg) x2|My back
brown, white, short, and tall
The man in the mirror surrounded by ya'll
One man's treasure is weight in coins
Biting from each other, know we learn
Hidden
lonely
At the bottom
We’re at a tipping point
We’ve gotta stop the rocking
It’s getting more sickening by the hour
And we’ve got nowhere to run
But if we
drove before
Because I can tell by the way she ride that stick,
That she ride that dick like a rodeo eh
On top while I'm huggin' them thighs,
That you don't get laid
By the flying strays
Duck season lil' homie
Hit the highway
Gold trippin' got that chain
Swingin' both ways
Anneh Syze
Do it like
as Compton (uh)
By Sylvester Scott and Benson Owens
A mission he formed to provide members protection from the Crips
Today there's over five million Bloods
him the guitar god he was the highway star
Bottoms up and bring a toast to Deep Purple and their members
Twenty one gun salutes for great music we‘ll
no drive-by's
We walked over
COB bandana tied to the end of the AR
Iller than they are, rhymes so sick
Give 'em the day off
This is the chaos, Nicolas
the hell are y'all going to heal, be made whole?
You identifying with the people in control
You can't throw a human in the bottom of a boat
Unless
makes a sound too soft to hear
So I remain between her legs
Sheltered from all my fears
While bikers glide by highway shrines
Where pilgrims
Four barrel engine on a V-eight road
And with everything we need it seems a heavy load
To have to tote a quarter mile all up on my back
And find I
This life it ain't no game
Need work just to get paid
Hustling day by day
Gon' figure out a way
Lord knows I walk by faith
A highway full of pain
made an alliance
Boat, Remble
Messed around and got richer than all my idols
Putting safes in sleeper holds like I'm Roddy Piper
Cash my money in
a lie
I'm still waiting on you
Fifty-five
Down the highway
On my own tonight
I'll do it my way
I wanna hug you right
Your on your own now
The door is
Uzi make him Chris Brown
Do him like disco, hands up, get down
I don't got the goop but the V's on rock
These hunnids blue cheese
These twentys on guap
bottoms
Got a .38 in my damn Nike box
Put the F&N by my damn wifey's socks
Ain't no competition, I'll be damned I'mma stop (y'all ain't ready)
Do I talk
a pretty girl now we downing hella mead
Blue on the bills yeah you don’t know what I seen
Triple on a boat I’ve been going since the morning
Keep my head
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