Lyrics:
I'ma die by the gun 'cause
I live by the bitch
How you trappin' in the field, you a bitch
Stop cappin' in your songs, hit a l-
(Hit a lick)
White
Counting up dollars I'm counting up green
What the fuck you mean
I keep on getting that money, collecting that paper
Like that shit be growing
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
sweet
That ain't my bitch, that's just my freak
I felt victim to the streets and it turned me into a motherfuckin' beast
Bitch, I'm just tryna eat
She
each new season side by side with you
You can plant your seeds in the spring, I'll harvest every word
We'll learn the songs of Mother Earth from
be my last song
Me, Squeaky, Flex and J, on Saratoga Street
Smokin' white boys, bumpin' dopefiend beats
Eighty-eight, my pockets wasn't straight,
for the green grass
Better wear tinted lenses, if you look at my clean ass
Catch me today, with a cannon or a Kodak
Cause by tomorrow, yesterday gon
why
It's not necessarily because you're lazy
But because of what's engraved in your brains by those crazy
Commercials and advertisements from
much thinking
MC's are blinking the third eye
When I pass by
Mackalicious got the sweet potato
Fried for you motherfucker
I touch the microphone i do
him
Though he played so sweet and high
They knew he had never
Been on the TV screen
So they passed his music by
I meant to go over and ask for
to pass it on
Two years ago, I thought it'd be my last song
Me, Squeaky, Flex and J, on Saratoga Street
Smokin white boys, bumpin dopefiend beats
And the turntables turn and that Al Greens plays
I see my mother's afro, as mama taps her toes as she rolls her J's
And my papa just left the house, in search
a loose body and soul
This dream is so deep how deeper is your sound of woman
So I wrote this song, to send with love and my devotion
How weird and so sweet
- it's all a dream of ideal days. The song was inspired by Georges Bizet's L'crlésienne Suite No 2, especially the first movement Pastorale.
When
meet
And They wave back to me
And blackbirds call so loud and sweet
From ev'ry green wood tree
Val-eri, val-dera
Val-deri, val-dera
Val-deri,
Smooth talking rabbit with a habit for the green
I've been scaling peaks seeing things you've never seen
You be out there stuck in your days
I'm
So they passed his music by
Me I meant to go over ask for a song
Maybe put on a harmony
I heard his refrain as the signals changed
He was still
to their beautiful song
Are we the reason the birds don't sing anymore
The grass ain't as green as it once was
The bees' honey ain't as sweet as it used
him
Though he played so sweet and high
They knew he had never
Been on their T.V.
So they passed his music by
I meant to go over and ask for a song
him
Though he played so sweet and high
They knew he had never
Been on their T.V.
So they passed his music by
I meant to go over and ask for a song
babies in your hands
And the old man playing checkers by the trees
Mac Arturh Park is melting in the dark all the sweet green icing flowing down
Someone
babies in your hands
And the old man playing checkers by the trees
Mac Arturh Park is melting in the dark all the sweet green icing flowing down
Someone
that mansion by the bay, and everybody see how
Swing karate with that dim sum say hello like ni hao
Liu Kang with them kicks to yo' stomach
And you gon
of her and sadly I was told
My sweet Cailin of Henry Street was taken by the cold
Her beauty overcame me her sadness broke my heart
From the moment that I
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