Lyrics:
lately sound like it's flushed out of the commode
And it's thirteen days old
Was probably hot for four seconds or so
But who am I? What have I sold?
Since that the day the doctor took me out of the womb and spanked me
Girl I was born to be with you and the rest is history
Generations and now I'm all
to penetrate
Generate dollar signs you follow mine
Come in peace money I will bless that
Bring the noise leave you on the Fourth
Where I rest at For real
of the recipe
I’m tryna live out my destiny
Fuck it if I get a felony
Imma transcend with my melody
While I be smoking my celery
Going through all
here flossin', Big Willies, we Willie Lynch 'em
Pull out the chopper, rappers hittin' the ground
Like every bar is a bullet, when I pull it, it sound
Son, you know why you the greatest alive?
Why, Dad?
Because you came out of my balls, nigga
Hahahaha
Fuck rap, bustin' like an addict with
on a weekly
(But) Who's fly in rap? I in fact
By myself, no one behind the attack
And fuck Sound Scan, I ain't BUYING that
Cause y'all sell em to the
Stores
Kay Slay, Cipha Sounds, Amanda Diva, (Sirius Radio)
Dj Chop, (Enough), DJ Hyphen, Greg Street, you know I'm talkin' 'bout?!
All the radio stations
town
In the beginning God made the sea
But on the seventh day he made me
He was tryin' to rest y'all when He heard the sound
Sound like a guitar cold
the other shit that's goin' in my brain
My brother got out of jail, I only know him by name
He did a nickel and a dime in time, probably be stayin' with my
track out - dedication
Sounds like you're on some weird substance or medication
I took a year off, didn't realise you'd get impatient
Think I'm slow? Your
Shout out my mama, shout out my family, shout out Slum Gang
and all that shit, nigga, let's run it
Off to cortelyou to chill with dancers
movie
All fucked up and full of hype, you're in your darkest hour
Your last light, at the sound of my pipe burst
You die tonight, leave in a hearse as I
the showdown high noon
Men dressed all black, yo pon cock platoon
Outlaws, shedding blood by the liter
Saddle up, ride into the sun, done defeat ya
Ride out
stop steel
Y'all some fake-thug living tryna get notice by hanging with stars
No need to say no names, niggas know who the fuck you are
We all true
the rest
We Funkdafied, kicking it live
Robin Leach teach a nigga how to really survive
Whether it be track or blunt, ain't no need to front
Got what you
won't hurt
(Won't hurt) i'ma spend this cash on you
You poke it out in a skirt (Out in a skirt)
I'ma fuck you sideways
I'ma leave my juice on your shirt
Can't find a way to leave the
Streets, from day to night
I kill my time off dubba-AA flexin’
Louie Bandz made another one d major, baby
Ooh, by
on the losing end
Some hooligan all I do is sin
I’ll prove to win show you again
By taking this little coupe a spin
Leave behind a group of friends
And some
for y'all
And my voice is messed up too, this is the last track of Young Sinatra
Yeah, yeah
Back in the day I wasn't shit, homie
Penny pinching I
town
In the beginning God made the sea
But on the seventh day he made me
He was tryin' to rest y'all when He heard the sound
Sound like a guitar cold
no sense at all
I was born
Baby boy
Different to the rest
Had more in common
With the monsters
Under my bed
Daydreams
Warped perception
One man movie
medulla, uh
Ya cute as a movie star, in sin city, Hennessey, my love slave
Lovin' is pimpin', no rest have, with none of 'em
I would leave every one of em,
treat me like their bitch
Well when I spit a track and take six shits with my sick hits
And suck out all your grit with half the work of my last diss
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