Lyrics:
tongue lickin' up my tongue
Your radio pickin' up a smoky, jazz love song Madness becomes you even though you're
Livin' life, it's hard to exist when
catch this train
Up past sunrise, now I'm restless, blue skies fucking with my brain
Time is ticking like the clock, I'm still held up by delays
Body
up and pass you by, by
Wish I didn't listen to the songs you recommended
Wish I didn't like the taste of it so much your taste so much still
Wish you
loss it aint my fault i gotta job/makin it/ sellin it/ smokin it
that's right every bit by bit/ known everybody in this bitch/
and dont trip if you gonna
snapped on it
And call us by our new names and that's featuring T-Pain and Lil Wayne
I know you waitin' on another one
So girl here go the other one
be worse
Bitter or sweet
It could be snapped from the jaws of defeat
Or like a light lit up on a beach
Wear your heart on your sleeve
Oh
You want
mountains
To the nearest river
Power up yo mouth
Speak life for a
Clearer picture
My power is off the richter
Provided by awesome scripture
My dads the best
on talking, just like shut the fuck up
Ayy
Bro get beat up by his bitch, I swear to God I wouldn't go for that
Thought he was solid then he told, he a hoe for
Make it rain, when it pours we flood, cover your system
Intuitive, straight up, avoided you by instinct
You could take cover, dodge radar detection
hardest not to grown
And pull the score up on my phone
As I complain,
"It's not the same."
We're rushing out the door
GO!
All holiday shoppers
I grab the mic like, “It is I, son!”
Cleverly rhyme, sever the ties when the time comes
And when tides roll and swell, I’ll be caught up in
(Taurus)
Breathe slow, slow, stalkin' that
Smoke 'em like 'dro, 'dro, let 'em hit 'em up (brrt)
Take it easy, move with ease, ayy
If the reaper
ain’t all your fault
Waiting by the yard your fine
Children’s guns they fire by night
Bullets in the dark
Your life it’s hard
So you bring it up baby
fucked up
My minds an asylum
Half the time feel like
I crashed on an island
All by myself
My mind is on auto-pilot
Yet no pilot is flying
Losing my shit
project Park Hill (tang-o-Phonics number one)
You represent that project Murder West Brighton Now Born
Arm banging into that will
Word up (after
because this bein' broke shit just ain't makin' it
Cause I grew up in the fast line
See my pops ran the numbers and my moms held the blackjack games
to take me out
I drew my axe with the quickness and cut his Adam's apple out
Walked in the village and to the piggy's place
He opened up his door
gang froze
Pulling up on they hoes
Being trailed by my bros
I can see the stars
From in here
Been whipping luxurious cars
For right now
I can see
a break up quick.
A PIMP I was born to be
The hoes was bringing me liquor
And the fiends was calling me God
My connection was the government
They gave me
clear the smoke, and grab a fool by his throat
And don't let him go til he holla holla billygoat
Now Money Money Money B, once said to me
"187 why you
Lookin' at that teacher's ass?
Yes
She gon' let us pass?
No
We takin' that sas?
No
In class takin' naps?
Yes
She gon' let us rap?
No
Time goin' by real
son with great love
It's just aimed up
So none could truly blame the past they came from
Sure, when you've never been moved, how do you move on?
But
at them like brothers this a trap
While trying to fuck the bitch that passed by like
She ain't a trap I snapped cause he start talking that shit
That he say
Young nigga growin' up way back
Had a fire for the streets, graffiti, and rap
In the car with my pops, whole neck coulda snapped
First time I heard
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